STACK 

AMUEX 


5 
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V.« 


REG.    U.    S.    PAT     OFF 


(Ibi 


1!- 


The  Temple  of  Pallas 
After  the  design  by  H.  Prout 


^be  ©bes  of  Iborace 


trbe  Xattn  ^lext 

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Coninaton'g  n:ran0latton 


ITn  Uvvo  Volumes 


flew  l^orft  an5  XonJon 

0.  p.  putnam'6  Sons 

^bc  UtniclJcrbocfter  preaa 


THE  ODES  OF  HORACE 
BOOKS  I  AND  II 


2057155 


Q.    HORATI    FLACCI    CARMINUM 


LIBER  PRIMUS 


X^AECENAS  atavis  edite  regibus, 
^^*     o  et  praesidium  et  dulce  decus  meum: 
sunt  quos  curriculo  pulverem   Olympicum 
collegisse  iuvat  metaque  fervidis 
evitata  rotis  palmaque  nobilis 
terrarum  dominos  evehit  ad  deos; 
hunc,   si   mobilium   turba    Quiritium 
certat  tergeminis  tollere  honoribus; 
ilium,  si  proprio  condidit  horreo 
quicquid   de   Libycis  verritur  areis. 
gaudentem  patrios  findere  sarculo 
agros  Attalicis  condicionibus 
numquam   demoveas,  ut  trabe   Cypria 
Myrtoum  pavidus  nauta  secet  mare, 
luctantem   Icariis   fluctibus   Africum 
mercator  metuens  otium  et  oppidi 
laudat  rura  sui:   mox  reficit  rates 
quassas,  indocilis  pauperiem  pati. 
[21 


THE  ODES  OF  HORACE 


BOOK  I 


\A  AECENAS,  born  of  monarch  ancestors, 

The  shield  at  once  and  glory  of  my  life! 

There  are  who  joy  them  in  the  Olympic  strife 
And  love  the  dust  they  gather  in  the  course ; 
The  goal  by  hot  wheels  shunn'd,  the  famous  prize, 

Exalt  them  to  the  gods  that  rule  mankind ; 

This  joys,  if  rabbles   fickle  as  the  wind 
Through  triple  grade  of  honours  bid  him  rise. 
That,  if  his  granary  has  stored  away 

Of   Libya's  thousand   floors  the   yield  entire; 

The  man  who  digs  his  field  as  did  his  sire, 
With  honest  pride,  no  Attains  may  sway 
By  proffer'd  wealth  to  tempt  Myrtoan  seas. 

The  timorous  captain  of  a  Cyprian  bark. 

The  winds  that  make  Icarian  billows  dark 
The  merchant  fears,  and  hugs  the  rural  ease 
Of  his  own  village  home;  but  soon,  ashamed 

Of  penury,  he  refits  his  batter'd  craft. 
[31 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.  i 

est  qui  nee  veteris  pocula  Massici 
nee  partem  solido  demere  de  die 
spernit,  nunc  viridi  membra  sub  arbuto 
stratus,  nune  ad  aquae  lene  eaput  saerae. 
multos  castra  iuvant  et  lituo  tubae 
permixtus  sonitus  bellaque  matribus 
detestata.  manet  sub  love  frigido 
venator  tenerae   coniugis   immemor, 
seu   visa   est   catulis   cerva   fidelibus 
seu  rupit  teretis  Marsus  aper  plagas. 
me   doctarum   hederae   praemia   frontium 
dis  miseent  superis,  me  gelidum  nemus 
nympharumque  leves  eum  Satyris  chori 
seeernunt   populo,   si   neque   tibias 
Euterpe  cohibet  nee  Polyhymnia 
Lesboum  refugit  tendere  barbiton. 
quodsi  me  lyricis  vatibus  inseres, 
sublimi  feriam  sidera  vertiee. 


II 


Iam    satis   terris   nivis   atque   dirae 
grandinis  misit  pater  et  rubente 
dextera  saeras  iaeulatus  arees 

terruit  urbem, 
terruit  gentis,  grave  ne  rediret 
saeeulum  Pyrrhae  nova  monstra  questae, 
[4] 


©Des  of  iborace,  :iBooft  i 

There  is,  who  thinks  no  scorn  of  Massic  draughty 
Who  robs  the  daylight  of  an  hour  unblamed, 
Now  stretch'd  beneath  the  arbute  on  the  sward, 

Now  by  some  gentle  river's  sacred  spring; 

Some  love  the  camp,  the  clarion's  joyous  ring, 
And  battle,  by  the  mother's  soul  abhorr'd. 
See,  patient  waiting  in  the  clear  keen  air, 

The  hunter,  thoughtless  of  his  delicate  bride, 

Whether  the  trusty  hounds  a  stag  have  eyed. 
Or  the  fierce  Marsian  boar  has  burst  the  snare. 
To  me  the  artist's  meed,  the  ivy  wreath 

Is  very  heaven :  me  the  sweet  cool  of  woods, 

When  Satyrs  frolic  with  the  Nymphs,  secludes 
From  rabble  rout,  so  but  Euterpe's  breath 
Fail  not  the  flute,  nor  Polyhymnia  fly 

Averse   from   stringing  new  the   Lesbian  lyre. 

0,  write  my  name  among  that  minstrel  choir, 
And  my  proud  head  shall  strike  upon  the  sky! 


II 


Enough  of  snow  and  hail  at  last 

The  Sire  has  sent  in  vengeance  down: 
His  bolts,  at  His  own  temple  cast, 

Appall'd    the    town, 
Appall'd  the  lands,  lest  Pyrrha's  time 
^Hurn,  with  all   its  monstrous   sights, 
[5] 


Iborati  Carmtnum  Xlb.  i 

oinne  cum  Proteus  pecus  egit  altos 

visere  montis, 
piscium  et  summa  genus  haesit  ulmo. 
nota  quae  sedes  fuerat  columbis, 
et  superiecto  pavidae  natarunt 

aequore  dammae. 
vidimus  flavom  Tiberim  retortis 
litore  Etrusco  violenter  undis 
ire  deiectum  monimenta  regis 

templaque  Vestae, 
Iliae  dum  se  nimium  querenti 
iactat  ultorem,  vagus  et  sinistra 
labitur  ripa,  love  non  probante  u- 

xorius  amnis. 
audiet  civis  acuisse  ferrum, 
quo  graves  Persae  melius  perirent, 
audiet  pugnas  vitio  parentum 

rara  inventus. 
quern  vocet  divom  populus  mentis 
imperi   rebus?   prece   qua   fatigent 
virgines  sanctae  minus  audientem 

carmina  Vestam? 
cui   dabit  partis   scelus   expiandi 
luppiter?    tandem   venias    precamur 
nube  candentis  umeros  amictus, 

augur  Apollo; 
sive  tu  mavis,  Erycina  ridens, 
quam  locus  circum  volat  et  Cupido; 

[6J 


©Des  ot  iborace,  :fBoo\{  i 

When  Proteus  led  his  flocks  to  climb 

The  flatten'd  heights, 
When  fish  were  in  the  elm-tops  caught, 

Where  once  the  stock-dove  wont  to  bide, 
And  does  were  floating,  all  distraught, 

Adown  the  tide. 
Old  Tiber,  hurl'd  in  tumult  back 

From  mingling  with  the  Etruscan  main. 
Has  threatened  Numa's  court  with  wrack 

And  Vesta's   fane. 
Roused  by  his  Ilia's  plaintive  woes. 

He  vows  revenge  for  guiltless  blood. 
And,  spite  of  Jove,  his  banks  o'erflows, 

Uxorious  flood. 
Yes,  Fame  shall  tell  of  civic  steel 

That  better  Persian  lives  had   spilt. 
To    youths,    whose    minish'd    numbers    feel 

Their  parents'   guilt. 
What  god  shall  Rome  invoke  to  stay 

Her   fall?     Can   suppliance   overbear 
The  ear  of  Vesta,  turn'd  away 

From  chant  and  prayer? 
Who   comes,   commission'd  to   atone 

For  crime  like  ours?  at  length  appear, 
A  cloud  round  thy  bright  shoulders  thrown, 

Apollo  seer! 
Or   Venus,   laughter-loving   dame. 
Round  whom  gay  Loves  and  Pleasures  fly; 

I7j 


Iboratf  Carmlnum  Xfb.  i 

sive  neclectum  genus  et  nepotes 

respicis,  auctor 
heu  nimis  longo  satiate  ludo, 
quern  iuvat  clamor  galeaeque  leves 
acer  et  Mauri  peditis  cruentum 

voltus   in  hostem, 
sive  mutata  iuvenem  figura 
ales  in  terris  imitaris,  almae 
filius  Maiae,  patiens  vocari 

Caesaris  ultor: 
serus  in  caelum  redeas  diuque 
laetus  intersis  populo  Quirini, 
neve  te  nostris  vitiis   iniquom 

ocior  aura 
tollat:    hie   magnos   potius   triumphos, 
hie  ames  dici  pater  atque  princeps, 
neu   sinas   Medos   equitare   inultos 

te  duce,  Caesar. 

Ill 

Sic  te  diva  potens  Cypri, 

sic   fratres    Helenae,   lucida   sidera, 
ventorumque  regat  pater 

obstrietis   aliis   praeter   lapyga, 
navis,  quae  tibi  creditum 

debe^  Vergilium,  finibus  Attieis 
reddas  incolumem  precor 

et   serves   animae   dimidium   meae. 
[8] 


©Des  of  Iborace,  JBooft  i 

Or  thou,  if  slighted   sons  may  claim 

A   parent's   eye, 
0   weary  with  thy  long,  long  game, 

Who  lov'st  fierce  shouts  and  helmets  bright, 
And  Moorish  warrior's  glance  of  flame 

Or  e'er  he  smite! 
Or  Maia's  son,  if  now  awhile 

In  youthful  guise  we  see  thee  here, 
Caesar's  avenger — such  the  style 

Thou  deign'st  to  bear; 
Late  be  thy  journey  home,  and  long 
Thy    sojourn    with    Rome's    family; 
Nor  let  thy  wrath  at  our  great  wrong 

Lend  wings  to  fly. 
Here  take  our  homage.  Chief  and  Sire; 

Here  wreathe  with  bay  thy  conquering  brow. 
And  bid  the  prancing  Mede  retire. 
Our  Caesar  thou! 

Ill 

Thus  may  Cyprus'  heavenly  queen. 
Thus  Helen's  brethren,  stars  of  brightest  sheen, 

Guide  thee!     May  the   Sire  of  wind 
Each  truant  gale,  save  only  Zephyr,  bind! 

So  do  thou,  fair  ship,  that  ow'st 
Virgil,  thy  precious  freight,  to  Attic  coast, 

Safe  restore  thy  loan  and  whole. 
And  save  from  death  the  partner  of  my  soul! 
[9] 


Iboratf  Carminum  5Lfb.  i 

illi  robur  et  aes  triplex 

circa  pectus  erat,  qui  fragilem  truci 
commisit  pelago  ratem 

primus,  nee   timuit   praecipitem   Africum 
decertantem  Aquilonibus 

nee  tristis  Hyadas  nee  rabiem  Noti, 
quo  non  arbiter  Hadriae 

maior,  tollere  seu  ponere  volt  freta. 
quern  mortis  timuit  gradum, 

qui    siccis   oculis   monstra   natantia, 
qui  vidit  mare  turbidum  et 

infamis   scopulos   Acroceraunia? 
nequiquam  deus  abscidit 

prudens    Oceano    dissociabili 
terras,  si  tamen  impiae 

non  tangenda   rates   transiliunt  vada. 
audax  omnia  perpeti 

gens  humana   ruit  per  vetitum  nefas: 
audax  lapeti  genus 

ignem  fraude  mala  gentibus  intulit; 
post  ignem  aetheria  domo 

subductum  macies  et  nova  febrium 
terris  incubuit  cohors 

semotique  prius  tarda  necessitas 
leti   corripuit   gradum. 

expertus  vacuom  Daedalus  aera 
pinnis  non  homini   datis; 

perrupit  Acheronta  Herculeus  labor, 

[101 


®De5  of  Iborace,  JBook  i 

Oak  and  brass  of  triple  fold 
Encompass'd  sure  that  heart,  which  first  made  bold 

To  the  raging  sea  to  trust 
A  fragile  bark,  nor  fear'd  the  Afric  gust 

With  its  Northern  mates  at  strife, 
Nor  Hyads'  frown,  nor  South-wind  fury-rife, 

Mightiest  power  that  Hadria  knows. 
Wills  he  the  waves  to  madden  or  compose. 

What  had   Death  in   store  to  awe 
Those  eyes,  that  huge  sea-beasts  unmelting  saw, 

Saw  the  swelling  of  the  surge. 
And  high  Ceraunian  cliffs,  the  seaman's  scourge? 

Heaven's  high   providence  in   vain 
Has  sever'd  countries  with  the  estranging  main, 

If  our  vessels  ne'ertheless 
With  reckless  plunge  that  sacred  bar  transgress. 

Daring  all,   their  goal  to  win. 
Men  tread  forbidden  ground,  and  rush  on  sin: 

Daring  all,  Prometheus  play'd 
His  wily  game,  and  fire  to  man  convey'd; 

Soon  as  fire  was  stolen  away, 
Pale  Fever's  stranger  host  and  wan  Decay 

Swept  o'er  earth's  polluted  face. 
And  slow  Fate  quicken'd  Death's  once  halting  pace. 

Daedalus  the  void  air  tried 
On  wings,  to  humankind  by  Heaven  denied; 

Acheron's  bar  gave  way  with  ease 
Before   the   arm   of   labouring   Hercules, 

[iij 


Iborati  Carmlnum  Xib.  i 

nil  mortalibus  arduist; 

caelum   ipsum   petimus   stultitia   neque 
per  nostrum  patimur  scelus 

iracunda    lovem    ponere    fulmina. 


IV 


SOLVITUR  acris  hiemps  grata  vice  veris  et  Favoni, 

trahuntque   siccas  machinae  carinas, 
ac  neque  iam  stabulis  gaudet  pecus  aut  arator  igni, 

nee  prata  canis  albicant  pruinis. 
iam   Cytherea   choros   ducit  Venus   imminente   luna, 

iunctaeque   Nymphis   Gratiae   decentes 
alterno  terram  quatiunt  pede,  dum  gravis  Cyclopum 

Volcanus   ardens   urit   officinas. 
nunc  decet  aut  viridi  nitidum  caput  impedire  myrto 

aut  flore,  terrae  quem  ferunt  solutae; 
nunc  et  in  umbrosis  Fauno  decet  immolare  lucis, 

seu  poscat  agna  sive  malit  haedo. 
pallida  mors  aequo  pulsat  pede  pauperum  tabernas 

I'egumque  turris.  o  beate   Sesti, 

112] 


©&C6  Of  iboracc,  :©ooft  i 

Nought  is  there  for  man  too  high; 
Our  impious  folly  e'en  would  climb  the  sky, 

Braves  the  dweller  on  the  steep, 
Nor  lets  the  bolts  of  heavenly  vengeance  sleep. 

IV 

The  touch   of  Zephyr  and   of   Spring  has   loosen'd 
Winter's  thrall; 
The  well-dried  keels  are  wheel'd  again  to  sea: 
The  ploughman  cares  not  for  his  fire,  nor  cattle  for 
their  stall, 
And  frost  no  more  is  whitening  all  the  lea. 
Now    Cytherea    leads    the    dance,    the    bright    moon 
overhead; 
The   Graces  and  the   Nymphs,  together  knit, 
With  rhythmic  feet  the  meadow  beat,  while  Vulcan, 
fiery  red. 
Heats  the  Cyclopian  forge  in  Aetna's  pit, 
'T  is  now  the  time  to  wreathe  the  brow  with  branch 
of  myrtle  green, 
Or  flowers,  just  opening  to  the  vernal  breeze; 
Now  Faunus  claims  his  sacrifice  among  the   shady 
treen. 
Lambkin  or  kidling,  which  soe'er  he  please. 
Pale  Death,  impartial,  walks  his  round:   he  knocks 
at  cottage-gate 
And  palace-portal.     Sestius,  child  of  bliss! 

[131 


Iboratf  Carmfnum  %\b,  i 

vitae  summa  brevis  spem  nos  vetat  inchoare  longam. 

iam  te  premet  nox  fabulaeque  manes 
et  domus  exilis  Plutonia:  quo  simul  mearis, 

nee  regna  vini  sortiere  talis, 
nee  tenerum  Lycidan  mirabere,  quo  calet  iuventus 

nune  omnis  et  mox  virgines  tepebunt. 


Quis  multa  gracilis  te  puer  in  rosa 
perfusus    liquidis    urget    odoribus 
grato,   Pyrrha,   sub  antro? 
cui  flavam  religas  comam, 
simplex  munditiis?  heu   quotiens  fidem 
mutatosque  deos  flebit  et  aspera 
nigris  aequora  ventis 
emirabitur  insolens, 
qui  nune  te  fruitur  credulus  aurea, 
qui   semper  vacuam,  semper  amabilem 
sperat,  nescius  aurae 
fallaeis.  miseri,  quibus 
intemptata  nites.    me  tabula  sacer 
votiva  paries  indicat  uvida 
suspendisse  potenti 
vestimenta  maris  deo. 

[14] 


©Des  of  Iborace,  :Boo}{  i 

How  should  a  mortal's  hopes  be  long,  when  short  his 
being's  date? 
Lo  here!  the  fabulous  ghosts,  the  dark  abyss, 
The  void  of  the  Plutonian  hall,  where  soon  as  e'er 
you  go, 
No  more  for  you  shall  leap  the  auspicious  die 
To  seat  you  on  the  throne  of  wine;  no  more  your 
breast  shall  glow 
For  Lycidas,  the  star  of  every  eye. 


What  slender  youth,  besprinkled  with  perfume, 
Courts  you  on  roses  in  some  grotto's  shade? 
Fair  Pyrrha,  say,  for  whom 
Your  yellow  hair  you  braid, 
So  trim,  so  simple!   Ah!   how  oft  shall  he 

Lament  that  faith  can  fail,  that  gods  can  change. 
Viewing  the  rough  black  sea 
With  eyes  to  tempests  strange. 
Who  now  is  basking  in  your  golden  smile, 
And  dreams  of  you  still  fancy-free,  still  kind, 
Poor   fool,   nor   knows    the    guile 
Of  the  deceitful  wind! 
Woe  to  the  eyes  you  dazzle  without  cloud 

Untried!    For  me,  they  show  in  yonder  fane 
My   dripping   garments,   vow'd 
To  Him  who  curbs  the  main. 

115] 


Iborati  Carminum  Xfb.  i 


VI 


ScRiBERis  Vario  fortis  et  hostium 

victor  Maeonii  carminis  alite, 

quam  rem  cumque  ferox  navibus  aut  equis 

miles  te  duce  gesserit. 
nos,  Agrippa,  neque  haec  dicere  nee  gravem 
Pelidae   stomachum  cedere  nescii 
nee  cursus  duplicis  per  mare  Ulixei 

nee   saevam   Pelopis   domum 
eonamur   tenues   grandia,   dum   pudor 
inbellisque   lyrae   Musa   potens  vetat 
laudes  egregii  Caesaris  et  tuas 

culpa  deterere  ingeni. 
quis  Martem  tuniea  tectum  adamantina 
digne  scripserit  aut  pulvere  Troico 
nigrum  Merionen  aut  ope  Palladis 

Tydiden  superis  parem? 
nos   convivia,  nos   proelia  virginum 
seetis   in    iuvenes   unguibus    acrium 
cantamus,  vacui,  sive  quid  urimur, 

non  praeter  solitum  leves. 

VII 

Laudabunt  alii  claram  Rhodon  aut  Mytilenen 
aut   Ephesum  bimarisve   Corinthi 

moenia  vel  Baccho  Thebas  vel  Apolline  Delphos 
insignis  aut  Thessala  Tempe; 

[16] 


©Des  of  iborace,  JBooft  i 


VI 


Not  I,  but  Varius: — he,  of  Homer's  brood 

A  tuneful  swan,  shall  bear  you  on  his  wing, 
Your  tale  of  trophies,  won  by  field  or  flood, 

Mighty  alike  to  sing.ng. 
Not  mine  such  themes,  Agrippa;  no,  nor  mine 

To  chant  the  wrath  that  fill'd  Pelides'  breast, 
Nor  dark  Ulysses'  wanderings  o'er  the  brine, 

Nor  Pelops'  house  unblest. 
Vast  were  the  task,  I  feeble;  inborn  shame. 

And  she,  who  makes  the  peaceful  lyre  submit, 
Forbid  me  to  impair  great  Caesar's  fame 

And  yours  by  my  weak  wit. 
But  who   may   fitly   sing   of   Mars   array'd 

In  adamant  mail,  or  Merion,  black  with  dust 
Of  Troy,  or  Tydeus'  son  by  Pallas'  aid 

Strong  against   gods   to   thrust? 
Feasts  are  my  theme,  my  warriors  maidens  fair. 

Who  with  pared  nails  encounter  youths  in  fight; 
Be  Fancy  free  or  caught  in  Cupid's  snare. 
Her   temper   still   is   light. 

VII 

Let    others    Rhodes    or    Mytilene    sing. 
Or  Ephesus,  or  Corinth,  set  between 

Two  seas,  or  Thebes,  or  Delphi,  for  its  king 
Each  famous,  or  Thessalian  Tempe  green; 

VOL.  I — 2.  [171 


Iboratf  Carminum  Xib.  i 

sunt  quibus  imum  opus  est  intactae  Palladis  urbem 

carmine  perpetuo  celebrare  et 
undique   decerptam   fronti   praeponere   olivam; 

plurimus   in   lunonis  honorem 
aptum   dicet   equis    Argos    ditisque   Mycenas: 

me  nee  tarn  patiens   Lacedaemon 
nee  tam  Larisae  percussit  campus  opimae, 

quam  domus  Albuneae  resonantis 
et  praeceps  Anio  ac  Tiburni  lucus  et  uda 

mobilibus  pomaria  rivis. 
albus  ut  obscuro  deterget  nubila  caelo 

saepe   Notus   neque   parturit   imbris 
perpetuos,  sic  tu  sapiens  finire  memento 

tristitiam  vitaeque  labores 
molli,  Plance,  mero,  seu  te  fulgentia  signis 

castra  tenent  seu  densa  tenebit 
Tiburis  umbra  tui.    Teucer  Salamina  patremque 

cum  fugeret,  tamen  uda  Lyaeo 
tempora  populea  fertur  vinxisse  corona, 

sic  tristis   affatus   amicos: 
'*  quo  nos  comque  feret  melior  fortuna  parente, 

ibimus,  o  socii  comitesque. 
nil  desperandum  Teucro  duce  et  auspice  Teucro: 

certus  enim  promisit  Apollo 
ambiguam  tellure  nova  Salamina  futuram. 

0  fortes  peioraque  passi 
mecum  saepe  viri,  nunc  vino  pellite  curas; 

eras  ingens  iterabimus  aequor." 

(18] 


©Des  of  Iborace,  :©ooft  i 

There  are  who  make  chaste  Pallas'  virgin  tower 

The  daily  burden  of  unending  song, 
And  search  for  wreaths  the  olive's  rifled  bower: 

The  praise  of  Juno  sounds  from  many  a  tongue, 
Telling  of  Argos'  steeds,  Mycenae's  gold. 

For  me  stern  Sparta  forges  no  such  spell, 
No,   nor   Larissa's   plain   of   richest   mould, 

As  bright  Albunea  echoing  from  her  cell. 
0  headlong  Anio!  O  Tiburnian  groves. 

And  orchards  saturate  with  shifting  streams! 
Look  how  the  clear  fresh  south  from  heaven  removes 

The  tempest,  nor  with  rain  perpetual  teems! 
You  too  be  wise,  my  Plancus:  life's  worst  cloud 

Will  melt  in  air,  by  mellow  wine  allay'd. 
Dwell  you  in  camps,  with  glittering  banners  proud. 

Or  'neath  your  Tibur's  canopy  of  shade. 
When  Teucer  fled  before  his  father's  frown 

From  Salamis,  they  say  his  temples  deep 
He  dipp'd  in  wine,  then  wreath'd  with  poplar  crown. 

And  bade  his  comrades  lay  their  grief  to  sleep: 
"  Where  Fortune  bears  us,  than  my  sire  more  kind. 
There  let  us  go,  my  own,  my  gallant  crew. 
'T  is  Teucer  leads,  'tis  Teucer  breathes  the  wind; 

No  more  despair;  Apollo's  word  is  true. 
Another  Salamis  in  kindlier  air 

Shall  yet  arise.     Hearts,  that  have  borne  with  me 
Worse  buffets!  drown  to-day  in  wine  your  care; 

To-morrow  we  recross  the  wide,  wide  sea!  " 

[191 


Iborati  Carminum  Xlb.  i 


VIII 


Lydia,  die,  per  omnis 
te  deos  oro,  Sybarin  cur  properes  amando 

perdere,  cur  apricum 
oderit  campum,  patiens  pulveris  atque  solis, 

cur  neque  militaris 
inter   aequalis    equitet,    Gallica   nee    lupatis 

temperet  ora  frenis? 
cur  timet  flavom  Tiberim  tangere?  cur  olivom 

sanguine  viperino 
cautius  vitat  neque  iam  livida  gestat  armis 

bracchia,    saepe    disco, 
saepe  trans   fin  em   iaculo  nobilis   expedite? 

quid  latet,  ut  marinae 
filium  dicunt  Thetidis  sub  lacrimosa  Troiae 

funera,  ne  virilis 
cultus  in  caedem  et  Lycias  proriperet  catervas? 


IX 

ViDES  ut  alta  stet  nive  candidum 
Soracte,  nee   iam   sustineant   onus 

120] 


©DCS  ot  iboracc,  :fi3ooft  i 


VIII 


Lydia,  by  all  above, 
Why  bear  so  hard  on  Sybaris,  to  ruin  him  with  love? 

What  change  has  made  him  shun 
The   playing-ground,   who   once    so   well   could   bear 
the  dust  and  sun? 
Why  does  he  never  sit 
On  horseback  in  his  company,  nor  with  uneven  bit 

His   Gallic  courser  tame? 
Why  dreads  he  yellow  Tiber,  as  't  would  sully  that 
fair  frame? 
Like  poison  loathes  the  oil, 
His  arms  no  longer  black  and  blue  with  honourable 
toil, 
He  who  erewhile  was  known 
For  quoit  or  javelin   oft  and  oft  beyond  the  limit 
thrown? 
Why  skulks  he,  as  they  say 
Did   Thetis'    son   before   the   dawn   of   Ilion's   fatal 
day. 
For  fear  the  manly  dress 
Should    fling    him    into    danger's    arms,    amid    the 
Lycian   press? 

IX 

See,  how  it  stands,  one  pile  of  snow, 
Soracte!    'neath   the   pressure   yield 

L211 


•fcorati  Carmfnum,  Xfb.  i 

silvae  laborantes  geluque 
flumina  constiterint  acuto. 
dissolve  fri^s  ligna  super  foco 
large  reponens  atque  benignius 
deprome  quadrimum   Sabina, 
o  Thaliarche,  merum  diota. 
permitte   divis   cetera,   qui   simul 
stravere  ventos  aequore  fervido 
deproeliantis,  nee  cupressi 
nee  veteres  agitantur  orni. 
quid  sit  futurum  eras,  fuge  quaerere,  et 
quern  fors  dierum  cumque  dabit,  lucro 
appone,  nee  dulcis  amores 

sperne  puer  neque  tu  choreas, 
donee  virenti   canities  abest 
morosa.  nunc  et  campus  et  areae 
lenesque   sub  noctem  susurri 
composita  repetantur  hora, 
nunc  et  latentis  proditor  intumo 
gratus  puellae  risus  ab  angulo 
pignusque   dereptum   lacertis 
aut  digito  male  pertinaci. 

X 

Mercuri,   facunde   nepos   Atlantis, 
qui  feros  cultus  hominum  recentum 
.voce  formasti  catus  et  decorae 
more  palaestrae, 

[221 


®De6  of  Iborace,  3Booft  I 

Its  groaning  woods;  the  torrents'  flow 

With  clear  sharp  ice  is  all  congeal'd. 
Heap  high  the  logs,  and  melt  the  cold, 

Good  Thaliarch;  draw  the  wine  we  ask, 
That   mellower   vintage,   four-year-old, 

From   out   the   cellar'd    Sabine   cask. 
The  future  trust  with  Jove;  when  He 

Has  still'd  the  warring  tempest's  roar 
On  the  vex'd  deep,  the   cypress-tree 

And  aged  ash  are  rock'd  no  more. 
0,  ask  not  what  the  morn  will  bring. 

But  count  as  gain  each  day  that  chance 
May  give  you;  sport  in  life's  young  spring. 

Nor  scorn  sweet  love,  nor  merry  dance, 
While  years  are  green,  while  sullen  eld 

Is  distant.     Now  the  walk,  the  game, 
The  whisper'd  talk  at  sunset  held, 

Each  in  its  hour,  prefer  their  claim. 
Sweet  too  the  laugh,  whose  feign'd  alarm 

The  hiding-place  of  beauty  tells. 
The  token,  ravish'd  from  the  arm 

Or  finger,  that  but  ill  rebels. 


Grandson  of  Atlas,  wise  of  tongue, 

O    Mercury,   whose   wit   could   tame 
Man's  savage  youth  by  power  of  song 
And  plastic  game! 

[23] 


Iboratf  Carmfnum  %ib,  i 

te  canam,  magni  lovis  et  deorum 
nuntium    curvaeque    lyrae    parentem, 
callidum  quicquid  placuit  iocoso 

condere  furto. 
te,  boves  olim  nisi  reddidisses 
per  dolum  amotas,  puerum  minaci 
voce  dum  terret,  viduus  pharetra 

risit  Apollo, 
quin  et  Atridas  duce  te  superbos 
Ilio  dives  Priamus  reUcto 
Thessalosque  ignis  et  iniqua  Troiae 

castra  fefellit. 
tu  pias  laetis  animas  reponis 
sedibus  virgaque  levem  coerces 
aurea  turbam,   superis  deorum 

gratus  et  imis. 


XI 

Tu   ne    quaesieris    (scire    nefas)    quern   mihi,    quern 

tibi 
finem  di  dederint,  Leuconoe,  nee  Babylonios 
temptaris   numeros.     ut   melius,   quicquid   erit,   pati, 
seu  pluris  hiemes  seu  tribuit  luppiter  ultimam, 
quae  nunc  oppositis  debilitat  pumicibus  mare 

[24] 


©Des  ot  Iborace,  JBooft  i 

Thee  sing  I,  herald  of  the  sky, 

Who  gav'st  the  lyre  its  music  sweet, 
Hiding  whate'er  might  please  thine  eye 

In  frolic  cheat. 
See,  threatening  thee,  poor  guileless  child, 

Apollo  claims,  in  angry  tone. 
His  cattle; — all  at  once  he  smiled. 

His  quiver  gone. 
Strong  in  thy   guidance.   Hector's   sire 

Escaped   the   Atridae,   pass'd   between 
Thessalian  tents  and  warders'  fire. 

Of   all    unseen. 
Thou  lay'st  unspotted  souls  to  rest; 

Thy  golden   rod   pale   spectres   know; 
Blest  power!   by  all  thy  brethren  blest. 
Above,  below! 

XI 

Ask  not  ('tis  forbidden  knowledge)  what  our 
destined  term  of  years, 

Mine  and  yours;  nor  scan  the  tables  of  your  Baby- 
lonish   seers. 

Better  far  to  bear  the  future,  my  Leuconoe,  like 
the  past. 

Whether  Jove  has  many  winters  yet  to  give,  or  this 
our  last; 

This,  that  makes  the  Tyrrhene  billows  spend  their 
strength  against  the  shore, 

[25] 


Iboratt  Carmlnum  Xib.  i 

Tyrrhenum.     sapias,  vina  liques  et  spatio  brevi 
spem      longam      reseces.     dum      loquimur,      fugerit 

invida 
aetas:  carpe  diem,  quam  minimum  credula  postero. 


XII 

QuEM  virum  aut  heroa  lyra  vel  acri 
tibia  sumis  celebrare,  Clio, 
quem  deum?  cuius  recinet  iocosa 

nomen  imago 
aut  in  umbrosis  Heliconis  oris 
aut  super  Pindo  gelidove  in  Haemo? 
unde  vocalem  temere  insecutae 

Orphea  silvae 
arte  materna  rapidos  morantem 
fluminum    lapsus    celerisque    ventos, 
blandum  et  auritas  fidibus  canoris 

ducere  quercus. 
quid    prius    dicam    solitis    parentis 
laudibus,    qui    res    hominum    ac    deorum, 
qui  mare  et  terras  variisque  mundum 

temperat  horis: 
unde  nil  maius  generatur  ipso, 
nee  viget  quicquam  simile  aut  secundum? 
proximos  illi  tamen  occupavit 

Pallas  honores. 

[261 


©DCS  of  Iborace,  :fl3oo?i  i 

Strain   your  wine   and   prove   your  wisdom;   life   is 

short;   should  hope  be  more? 
In  the  moment  of  our  talking,  envious  time  has  ebb'd 

away. 
Seize  the  present;  trust  to-morrow  e'en  as  little  as 

you  may. 

XII 

What   man,  what  hero,   Clio   sweet. 

On  harp  or  flute  wilt  thou  proclaim? 
What  god  shall  echo's  voice  repeat 

In  mocking  game 
To  Helicon's  sequester'd  shade, 

Or  Pindus,  or  on  Haemus  chill. 
Where  once  the  hurrying  woods  obey'd 

The  minstrel's  will. 
Who,  by  his  mother's  gift  of  song, 

Held  the  fleet  stream,  the  rapid  breeze. 
And  led  with  blandishment  along 

The  listening  trees? 
Whom  praise  we  first?  the  Sire  on  high. 

Who   gods   and  men  unerring  guides. 
Who  rules  the  sea,  the  earth,  the  sky, 

Their  times  and  tides. 
No  mightier  birth  may  He  beget; 

No  like,  no  second  has  He  known; 
Yet  nearest  to  her  sire's  is  set 
Minerva's   throne. 

[27] 


•fcorati  Garminum  X(b,  i 

proeliis  audax,  neque  te  silebo, 
Liber,  et  saevis  inimica  virgo 
beluis,  nee  te,  metuende  certa 

Phoebe  sagitta. 
dicam  et  Alciden  puerosque  Ledae, 
hunc  equis,  ilium  superare  pugnis 
nobilem;  quorum  simul  alba  nautis 

Stella  refulsit, 
defluit   saxis   agitatus  umor, 
concidunt  venti  fugiuntque  nubes 
et  minax,  quod  sic  voluere,  ponto 

unda  recumbit. 
Romulum  post  hos  prius  an   quietum 
Pompili  regnum  memorem  an  superbos 
Tarquini  fasces,  dubito,  an  Catonis 

nobile  letum. 
Regulum   et    Scauros   animaeque   magnae 
prodigum  Paulum  superante  Poeno 
gratus  insigni  referam  camena 

Fabriciumque. 
hunc  et  incomptis  Curium  capillis 
utilem  bello  tulit  et  Camillum 
saeva  paupertas  et  avitus  apto 

cum  lare   fundus, 
crescit  occulto  velut  arbor  aevo 
fama   Marcelli;   micat  inter  omnis 
lulium  sidus  velut  inter  ignis 

luna  minores. 

(28] 


®t>c6  Of  Iboracc,  aBooft  i 

Nor  yet  shall  Bacchus  pass  unsaid, 

Bold  warrior,  nor  the  virgin  foe 
Of  savage  beasts,  nor  Phoebus,  dread 

With  deadly  bow. 
Alcides  too  shall  be  my  theme, 

And  Leda's  twins,  for  horses  he, 
He  famed  for  boxing;  soon  as  gleam 

Their  stars  at  sea. 
The   lash'd   spray   trickles   from   the   steep. 

The    wind    sinks    down,    the    storm-cloud  flies. 
The   threatening   billow   on   the   deep 

Obedient  lies. 
Shall  now  Quirinus  take  his  turn, 

Or  quiet  Numa,  or  the  state 
Proud   Tarquin  held,  or   Cato   stern. 

By   death   made   great? 
Ay,  Regulus  and  the  Scaurian  name, 
And  Paullus,  who  at  Cannae  gave 
His  glorious  soul,  fair  record  claim. 

For  all  were  brave. 
Thee,    Furius,    and    Fabricius,    thee. 

Rough  Curius  too,  with  untrimm'd  beard, 
Your  sires'  transmitted  poverty 

To  conquest  rear'd. 
Marcellus'   fame,   its  up-growth   hid, 

Springs  like  a  tree;   great  Julius'  light 
Shines,  like  the   radiant  moon   amid 
The  lamps  of  night. 

[29] 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.  i 

gentis   humanae   pater   atque   custos, 
orte  Saturno,  tibi  cura  magni 
Caesaris  fatis  data;  tu  secundo 

Caesare  regnes. 
ille  seu  Parthos  Latio  imminentis 
egerit  iusto   domitos  triumpho, 
sive  subiectos  orientis  orae 

Seras  et  Indos, 
te  minor  latum   reget   aequos   orbem; 
tu   gravi   curru   quaties    Olympum, 
tu   parum  castis  inimica  mittes 

fulmina  lucis. 


XIII 

Cum  tu,  Lydia,  Telephi 

cervicem  roseam,  cerea  Telephi 
laudas   bracchia,   vae  meum 

fervens   difficili   bile   tumet   iecur. 
tum  nee  mens  mihi  nee  color 

certe  sede  manent,  umor  et  in  genas 
furtim  labitur,  arguens 

quam  lentis  penitus  macerer  ignibus. 
uror,  seu  tibi  candidos 

turparunt  umeros  inmodicae  mere 
rixae,  sive  puer  furens 

inpressit  memorem   dente  labris  notam. 

[30] 


©Des  ot  Iborace,  JBooft  i 

Dread  Sire  and  Guardian  of  man's  race, 

To  Thee,  O  Jove,  the  Fates  assign 
Our  Caesar's  charge;  his  power  and  place 

Be  next  to  Thine. 
Whether  the   Parthian,   threatening   Rome, 

His  eagles  scatter  to  the  wind. 
Or  follow  to  their  eastern  home 

Cathay    and    Ind, 
Thy  second  let  him  rule  below: 

Thy  car  shall  shake  the  realms  above; 
Thy   vengeful   bolts    shall    overthrow 
Each   guilty   grove. 

XIII 

Telephus — you  praise  him  still, 
His  waxen   arms,  his   rosy-tinted  neck; 

Ah!  and  all  the  while  I  thrill 
With  jealous  pangs  I  cannot,  cannot  check. 

See,  my  colour  comes  and  goes. 
My  poor  heart  flutters,  Lydia,  and  the  dew, 

Down  my  cheek  soft  stealing,  shows 
What    lingering    torments    rack    me    through    and 
through. 

Oh,  't  is  agony  to  see 
Those     snowwhite     shoulders     scarr'd     in     drunken 
fray. 

Or  those  ruby  lips,  where  he 

[311 


Iborati  Garminum  %i\),  i 

non,  si  me  satis  audias, 

speres   perpetuom   dulcia  barbare 
laedentem  oscula,  quae  Venus 

quinta  parte  sui  nectaris  imbuit. 
felices  ter  et  amplius, 

quos  inrupta  tenet  copula  nee  malis 
divolsus  querimoniis 

suprema  citius  solvet  amor  die. 


XIV 

0  NAVIS,  referent  in  mare  te  novi 
fluctus!  o  quid  agis?  fortiter  occupa 
portum!  nonne  vides  ut 
nudum  remigio  latus, 
et  malus  celeri  saucius  Africo 
antemnaeque    gemant,   ac   sine   funibus 
vix  durare  carinae 
possint  imperiosius 
aequor?  non  tibi  sunt  integra  lintea, 
non   di,   quos   iterum   pressa   voces   malo. 
quamvis  Pontica  pinus 
silvae  filia  nobilis, 
iactes   et   genus   et   nomen   inutile: 
nil  pictis  timidus  navita  puppibus 
fidit.     tu   nisi   ventis 
debes   ludibrium,   cave. 

[32] 


©De6  of  Iborace,  ^Boow  i 

Has  left  strange  marks,  that  show  how  rough  his 
play! 

Never,  never  look  to  find 
A  faithful  heart  in  him  whose  rage  can  harm 

Sweetest  lips,  which  Venus  kind 
Has  tinctured  with   her   quintessential   charm. 

Happy,   happy,   happy   they 
Whose  living  love,  untroubled  by  all  strife, 

Binds  them  till   the   last   sad  day, 
Nor  parts  asunder  but  with  parting  life! 

XIV 

O  LUCKLESS  bark!  new  waves  will  force  you  back 
To  sea.     O,  haste  to  make  the  haven  yours! 
E'en  now,  a  helpless  wrack, 
You  drift,  despoil'd  of  oars; 
The  Afric  gale  has  dealt  your  mast  a  wound; 
Your  sailyards  groan,  nor  can  your  keel  sustain, 
Till  lash'd  with  cables  round, 
A  more  imperious  main. 
Your  canvas  hargs  in  ribbons,  rent  and  torn; 
No  gods  are  left  to  pray  to  in  fresh  need. 
A  pine  of  Pontus  born 
Of  noble  forest  breed, 
You  boast  your  name  and  lineage — madly  blind 
Can  painted  timbers  quell  a  seaman's  fear? 
Beware!  or  else  the  wind 

Makes  you  its  mock  and  jeer. 

VOL.  1—3.  [331 


Iboratf  Garmimim  Xib.  i 

nuper  sollicitum  quae  mihi  taedium, 
nunc    desiderium    curaque   non    levis, 
interfusa  nitentis 

vites  aequora  Cycladas. 


XV 

Pastor  cum  traheret  per  freta  navibus 
Idaeis  Helenen  perfidus  hospitam, 
ingrato  celeris  obruit  otio 

ventos,  ut  caneret  fera 
Nereus  fata.     "  mala  ducis  avi  domum 
quam  multo  repetet  Graecia  milite, 
coniurata  tuas  rumpere  nuptias 

et  regnum  Priami  vetus. 
heu  heu,  quantus  equis,  quantus  adest  viris 
sudor!   quanta  moves  funera   Dardanae 
genti!  iam  galeam  Pallas  et  aegida 

currusque  et  rabiem  parat. 
nequiquam  Veneris  praesido  ferox 
pectes   caesariem    grataque    feminis 
inbelli  cithara  carmina   divides; 

nequiquam  thalamo  gravis 
hastas  et  calami  spicula  Cnosii 
vitabis,   strepitumque   et   celerem   sequi 
Aiacem:    tamen  heu   serus   adulteros 

crines  pulvere  collines. 

[34] 


®^C3  Of  Iborace,  JSooft  i 

Your  trouble  late  made  sick  this  heart  of  mine, 
And  still  I  love  you,  still  am  ill  at  ease. 
0,  shun  the  sea,  where  shine 
The  thick-sown  Cyclades! 


XV 

When  the  false  swain  was  hurrying  o'er  the  deep 

His  Spartan  hostess  in  the  Idaean  bark. 
Old  Nereus  laid  the  unwilling  winds  asleep, 

That  all  to  Fate  might  hark, 
Speaking  through  him: — *'  Home  in  ill  hour  you  take 
A   prize    whom    Greece    shall    claim    with    troops 
untold, 
Leagued  by  an  oath  your  marriage  tie  to  break 

And  Priam's  kingdom  old. 
Alas!  what  deaths  you  launch  on  Dardan  realm! 

What  toils  are  waiting,  man  and  horse  to  tire! 
See!  Pallas  trims  her  aegis  and  her  helm. 

Her  chariot  and  her  ire. 
Vainly  shall  you,  in  Venus'  favour  strong, 

Your  tresses  comb,  and  for  your  dames  divide 
On  peaceful  lyre  the  several  parts  of  song; 

Vainly  in  chamber  hide 
From  spears  and  Gnossian  arrows,  barb'd  with  fate. 

And  battle's  din,  and  Ajax  in  the  chase 
Unconquer'd;  those  adulterous  locks,  though  late. 
Shall  gory  dust  deface. 

135] 


Iboratf  Garminum  %ib,  i 

non  Laertiaden,  exitium  tuae 

gentis,  nori   Pylium   Nestora   respicis? 

urgent  inpavidi   te   Salaminius 

Teucer,  te   Sthenelus  sciens 
pugnae,  sive  opus  est  imperitare  equis, 
non   auriga    piger.     Merionen    quoque 
nosces.     ecce  furit  te  reperire  atrox 

Tydides  melior  patre: 
quern  tu,  cervos  uti  vallis  in  altera 
visum   parte   lupum   graminis   immemor, 
sublimi   fugies  mollis  anhelitu, 

non  hoc  poUicitus  tuae. 
iracunda   diem   proferet   Ilio 
matronisque  Phrygum  classis  Achillei; 
post  certas  hiemes  uret  Achaicus 

ignis    Iliacas    domos." 

XVI 

0  MATRE  pulchra  filia  pulchrior, 
quern  criminosis   cumque   voles   modum 
pones  iambis,   sive  flamma 
sive  mari  libet  Hadriano. 
non    Dindymene,   non   adytis   quatit 
mentem  sacerdotum  incola  Pythius, 
non  Liber  aeque,  non  acuta 
sic   geminant   Corybantes  aera, 
tristes  ut  irae,  quas  neque  Noricus 

136] 


®DC0  Of  Iboracc,  JSooft  i 

Hark!  'tis  the  death-cry  of  your  race!  look  back! 

Ulysses  comes,  and  Pylian  Nestor  grey; 
See!  Salaminian  Teucer  on  your  track, 

And  Sthenelus,  in  the  fray 
Versed,  or  with  whip  and  rein,  should  need  require, 

No  laggard.     Merion  too  your  eyes  shall  know 
From  far.     Tydides,  fiercer  than  his  sire, 

Pursues  you,  all  aglow; 
Him,  as  the  stag  forgets  to  graze  for  fright. 

Seeing  the  wolf  at  distance  in  the  glade. 
And  flies,  high  panting,  you  shall  fly,  despite 

Boasts  to  your  leman  made. 
What  though  Achilles'  wrathful  fleet  postpone 

The  day  of  doom  to  Troy  and  Troy's  proud  dames. 
Her  towers  shall  fall,  the  number'd  winters  flown, 
Wrapp'd  in  Achaean  flames." 


XVI 

0  LOVELIER  than  the  lovely  dame 

That  bore  you,  sentence  as  you  please 
Those   scurril   verses,   be   it   flame 

Your  vengeance  craves,  or  Hadrian  seas. 
Not  Cybele,  nor  he  that  haunts 

Rich  Pytho,  worse  the  brain  confounds. 
Not  Bacchus,  nor  the  Corybants 

Clash  their  loud  gongs  with  fiercer  sounds 
Than  savage  wrath;  nor  sword  nor  spear 

137J 


Iboratt  Carmfnum  Xfb.  i 

deterret    ensis   nee    mare    naufragum 
nee    saevos    ignis    nee    tremendo 
luppiter   ipse   ruens   tumultu. 
fertur    Prometheus    addere   prineipi 
limo  eoaetus   partieulam  undique 
desectam   et   insani   leonis 
vim   stomacho   apposuisse  nostro. 
irae  Thyesten  exitio  gravi 
stravere,  et  altis  urbibus  ultimae 
stetere    causae,   cur   perirent 
funditus  imprimeretque  muris 
hostile   aratrum   exercitus   insolens. 
compesce  mentem:  me  quoque  pectoris 
temptavit  in  dulci  iuventa 
fervor  et  in  celeres  iambos 
misit  furentem;  nunc  ego  mitibus 
mutare  quaero  tristia,  dum  mihi 
fias  recantatis  amica 

obprobriis  animumque  reddas. 

XVII 

Velox  amoenum  saepe  Lucretilem 
mutat   Lycaeo   Faunus   et   igneam 
defendit   aestatem   capellis 

usque   meis   pluviosque   ventos. 
impune  tutum  per  nemus  arbutos 
quaerunt  latentis  et  thyma  deviae 

[38] 


et>ce  of  Iborace,  JSooft  i 

Appals  it,  no,  nor  ocean's  frown, 
Nor  ravening  fire,  nor  Jupiter 

In  hideous  ruin  crashing  down. 
Prometheus,  forced,  they  say,  to  add 

To  his  prime  clay  some  favourite  part 
From  every  kind,  took  lion  mad. 

And  lodged  its  gall  in  man's  poor  heart. 
'T  was  wrath  that  laid   Thyestes  low; 

'T  is  wrath  that  oft  destruction  calls 
On  cities,  and  invites  the  foe 

To  drive  his  plough  o'er  ruin'd  walls. 
Then  calm  your  spirit;  I  can  tell 

How  once,  when  youth   in  all  my  veins 
Was  glowing,  blind  with  rage,  I  fell 

On  friend  and  foe  in  ribald  strains. 
Come,  let  me  change  my  sour  for  sweet, 

And  smile  complacent  as  before: 
Hear  me  my  palinode  repeat. 

And  give  me  back  your  heart  once  more. 

XVII 

The  pleasures  of  Lucretilis 

Tempt  Faunus  from  his  Grecian  seat; 
He  keeps  my  little  goats  in  bliss 

Apart  from  wind,  and  rain,  and  heat. 
In  safety  rambling  o'er  the  sward 

For  arbutes  and  for  thyme  they  peer, 

[39] 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.  i 

olentis  uxores  mariti, 

nee  viridis  metuunt  colubras 
nee   Martialis  Haediliae  hipos, 
utcumque  dulei,  Tyndari,  fistula 
valles  et  Usticae  cubantis 
levia  personuere  saxa. 
di  me  tuentur,  dis  pietas  mea 
et  musa  eordi  est.     hinc  tibi  eopia 
manabit  ad  plenum  benigno 

ruris  honorum  opulenta  cornu. 
hie  in  reducta  valle  Canieulae 
vitabis  aestus  et  fide  Tela 
diees  laborantis  in  uno 

Penelopen   vitreamque    Cireen. 
hie  innocentis  poeula  Lesbii 
duces  sub  umbra  nee  Semeleius 
eum  Marte  eonfundet  Thyoneus 
proelia  nee  metues  prOtervom 
suspecta  Cyrum,  ne  male  dispari 
ineontinentis  inieiat  manus 
et  seindat  haerentem  coronam 
crinibus  inmeritamque  vestem. 


XVIII 

NuLLAM,  Vare,  saera  vite  prius   severis  arborem 
cirea  mite  solum  Tiburis  et  moenia  Catili: 

140J 


Ot)C6  ot  tboracc,  JSooF?  i 

The  ladies  of  the  unfragrant  lord, 

Nor  vipers,  green  with  venom,  fear, 
Nor  savage  wolves,  of  Mars'  own  breed, 

My  Tyndaris,  while  Ustica's  dell 
Is  vocal  with  the  silvan  reed. 

And   music    thrills   the    limestone    fell. 
Heaven  is  my  guardian;  Heaven  approves 

A  blameless  life,  by  song  made  sweet; 
Come  hither,  and  the  fields  and  groves 

Their  horn  shall  empty  at  your  feet. 
Here,  shelter'd  by  a  friendly  tree. 

In  Teian  measures  you  shall  sing 
Bright  Circe  and  Penelope, 

Love-smitten  both  by  one  sharp  sting. 
Here   shall  you   quaff  beneath  the   shade 

Sweet   Lesbian   draughts  that  injure  none, 
Nor  fear  lest   Mars   the   realm   invade 

Of    Semele's    Thyoniafi    son. 
Lest  Cyrus  on  a  foe  too  weak 

Lay  the  rude  hand  of  wild  excess, 
His  passion  on  your  chaplet  wreak. 

Or  spoil  your  undeserving  dress. 

XVIII 

Varus,  are  your  trees  in  planting?  put  in  none  be- 
fore the  vine. 
In    the    rich    domain    of    Tibur,    by    the    wails 
of  Catilus; 

[41] 


fborati  Carminum  Xlb.  i 

siccis  omnia  nam  dura  deus  proposuit,  neque 

mordaces    aliter    diffugiunt    sollicitudines. 

quis   post    vina    gravem    militiam     aut     pauperiem 

crepat? 
quis    non    te    potius,    Bacche    pater,    teque,    decens 

Venus? 
ac  nequis  modici  transiliat  munera  Liberi, 
Centaurea  monet  cum  Lapithis  rixa  super  mere 
debellata,  monet  Sithoniis  non  levis  Euhius, 
cum  fas  atque  nefas  exiguo  fine  libidinum 
discernunt  avidi.     non  ego  te,  candide  Bassareu, 
invitum  quatiam  nee  variis  opsita  frondibus 
sub  divom  rapiam.     saeva  tene  cum  Berecynthio 
cornu  tjTTipana,  quae  subsequitur  caecus  amor  sui 
et  tollens  vacuum  plus  nimio  gloria  verticem 
arcanique    fides    prodiga,    perlucidior   vitro. 


142] 


©DCS  of  Iborace,  JSooft  i 

There  's  a  power  above  that  hampers  all  that  sober 
brains  design, 
And  the  troubles  man  is  heir  to  thus  are  quell'd, 
and  only  thus. 
Who  can  talk  of  want  or  warfare  when  the  wine  is 
in  his  head, 
Not  of  thee,  good  father  Bacchus,  and  of  Venus 
fair  and  bright? 
But  should  any  dream  of  licence,  there  's  a  lesson 
may  be  read, 
How  't  was  wine  that  drove  the  Centaurs  with  the 
Lapithae  to  fight. 
And   the   Thracians   too   may   warn   us;    truth   and 
falsehood,  good  and  ill, 
How  they  mix  them,  when  the  wine-god's  hand  is 
heavy  on  them  laid! 
Never,   never,   gracious   Bacchus,  may  I   move   thee 
'gainst  thy  will, 
Or  uncover  what  is  hidden  in  the  verdure  of  thy 
shade ! 
Silence  thou  thy  savage  cymbals,  and  the  Berecyn- 
tine  horn; 
In  their  train  Self-love  still  follows,  dully,  desper- 
ately blind. 
And    Vain-glory,    towering    upward    in    its    empty- 
headed  scorn, 
And  the  Faith  that  keeps  no  secrets,  with  a  win- 
dow in  its  mind. 

[43] 


tborati  Carmfnum  Xib.  i 


XIX 


Mater  saeva  Cupidinum 

Thebanaeque  iubet  me  Semelae  puer 
et  lasciva  Licentia 

finitis  animum  reddere  amoribus. 
urit  me  Glycerae  nitor 

splendentis  Pario  marmore  purius; 
urit  grata  protervitas 

et  voltus  nimium  lubricus  aspici 
in  me  tota  ruens  Venus 

Cyprum  deseruit,  nee  patitur  Scythas 
et  versis  animosum  equis 

Parthum   dicere   nee   quae  nihil   attinent. 
hie  vivom  mihi  caespitem,  hie 

verbenas,  pueri,  ponite  turaque 
bimi  cum  patera  meri: 

mactata  veniet  lenior  hostia. 

XX 

Vile  potabis  modicis   Sabinum 
cantharis,  Graeca  quod  ego  ipse  testa 
conditum  levi,  datus  in  theatre 

cum  tibi  plausus, 
care  Maecenas  eques,  ut  paterni 
fluminis  ripae  simul  et  iocosa 
redderet   laudes   tibi   Vaticani 

montis  imago. 

[44] 


©Dc5  Of  Iborace,  JBooft  i 

XIX 

Cupid's  mother,  cruel   dame, 
And  Semele's  Theban  boy,  and  Licence  bold, 

Bid  me  kindle  into  flame 
This  heart,  by  waning  passion  now  left  cold. 

0,  the  charms  of  Glycera, 
That  hue,  more  dazzling  than  the  Parian  stone! 

0,   that    sweet   tormenting   play, 
That  too  fair  face,  that  blinds  when  look'd  upon! 

Venus  comes  in  all  her  might, 
Quits  Cyprus  for  my  heart,  nor  lets  me  tell 

Of   the    Parthian,   bold   in    flight, 
Nor  Scythian  hordes  nor  aught  that  breaks  her  spell. 

Heap  the  grassy  altar  up. 
Bring  vervain,  boys,  and   sacred   frankincense; 

Fill   the   sacrificial   cup; 
A  victim's  blood  will  soothe  her  vehemence. 

XX 

Not  large  my  cups,  nor  rich  my  cheer. 

This  Sabine  wine,  which  erst  I  seal'd, 
That   day   the   applauding   theatre 

Your  -^'^elcome  peal'd. 
Dear   knight    Maecenas !    as    't  were   fain 

That  your  paternal   river's  banks, 
And  Vatican,  in  sportive  strain, 
Should   echo   thanks. 

145] 


Iboratl  Carminum  Xlb.  i 

Caecubum   et   prelo   domitam   Caleno 
tu  bibes  uvam:  mea  nee  Falernae 
temperant  vites  neque  Formiani 
pocula  colles. 

XXI 

DiANAM  tenerae  dicite  virgines, 
intonsum,  pueri,  dicite  Cynthium 
Latonamque  supremo 
dilectam  penitus  lovi. 
vos   laetam   fluviis   et   nemorum    coma, 
quaecumque  aut  gelido  prominet  Algido, 
nigris   aut    Erymanthi 
silvis  aut  viridis  Cragi. 
vos  Tempe  totidem  tollite  laudibus 
natalemque,   mares,   Delon    Apollinis 
insignemque  pharetra 

fraternaque  umerum  lyra. 
hie  bellum  lacrimosum,  hie  miseram  famem 
pestemque  a  populo  et  principe  Caesare  in 
Persas   atque   Britannos 
vestra  motus  aget  prece. 

XXII 

Integer  vitae  scelerisque  purus 
non  eget  Mauris  iaculis  neque  areu 

[46] 


®DC0  of  Iborace,  JBooft  i 

For  you  Calenian  grapes  are  press'd, 
And  Caecuban;  these  cups  of  mine 
Falernum's  bounty  ne'er  has  bless'd, 
Nor  Formian  vine. 

XXI 

Of  Dian's  praises,  tender  maidens,  tell; 

Of  Cynthus'  unshorn  god,  young  striplings,  sing; 
And  bright  Latona,  well 

Beloved  of  Heaven's  high  King. 
Sing  her  that  streams  and  silvan  foliage  loves. 
Whatever  on  Algidus'  chill  brow  is  seen, 
In  Erymanthian  groves 

Dark-leaved,  or  Cragus  green. 
Sing  Tempe  too,  glad  youths,  in  strain  as  loud, 
And  Phoebus'  birthplace,  and  that  shoulder  fair, 
His  golden  quiver  proud 
And  brother's  lyre  to  bear. 
His  arm  shall  banish  Hunger,  Plague,  and  War 
To  Persia  and  to  Britain's  coast,  away 
From  Rome  and  Caesar  far, 
If  you  have  zeal  to  pray. 

XXII 

No  need  of  Moorish  archer's  craft 

To  guard  the  pure  and  stainless  liver; 

[47] 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.  i 

nee  venenatis   gravida   sagittis, 

Fusee,   pharetra, 
sive  per   Syrtis   iter  aestuosas, 
sive   facturus   per   inhospitalem 
Caucasum  vel  quae  loca  fabulosus 

lambit  Hydaspes. 
namque  me  silva  lupus  in   Sabina, 
dum  meam  canto   Lalagen   et  ultra 
terminum  euris  vagor  expeditis, 

fugit  inermem. 
quale   portentum   neque   militaris 
Daunias  latis  alit  aesculetis, 
nee  lubae  tellus  generat,  leonum 

arida  nutrix. 
pone  me,  pigris  ubi  nulla  campis 
arbor   aestiva   recreatur   aura, 
quod  latus  mundi   nebulae   malusque 

luppiter  urget; 
pone  sub  curru  nimium  propinqui 
soils  in  terra  domibus  negata: 
dulce   ridentem   Lalagen   amabo, 

dulce  loquentem. 

XXIII 

Vitas  inuleo  me  similis,  Chloe, 
quaerenti    pavidam    montibus    aviis 
matrem    non    sine    vano 
aurarum  et  siliiae  metu. 

[48J 


©Des  of  tborace,  JBooft  i 

He  wants  not,   Fuscus,   poison'd   shaft 

To   store   his   quiver, 
Whether  he  traverse   Libyan   shoals, 

Or   Caucasus,   forlorn   and   horrent, 
Or  lands   where   far   Hydaspes   rolls 

His  fabled  torrent. 
A  wolf,  while,  roaming  trouble-free 
In  Sabine  wood,  as  fancy  led  me, 
Unarm'd   I   sang  my   Lalage, 

Beheld,  and  fled  me. 
Dire  monster!  in  her  broad  oak  woods 

Fierce    Daunia   fosters   none    such    other, 
Nor  Juba's  land,  of  lion  broods 

The  thirsty  mother. 
Place  me  where  on  the  ice-bound  plain 

No  tree  is  cheer'd  by  summer  breezes, 
Where  Jove  descends  in  sleety  rain 

Or   sullen   freezes; 
Place  me  where  none  can  live  for  heat, 

'Neath    Phoebus'   very   chariot   plant  me. 
That  smile  so  sweet,  that  voice  so  sweet, 
Shall   still   enchant   me. 

XXIII 

You  fly  me,  Chloe,  as  o'er  trackless  hills 

A  young  fawn  runs  her  timorous  dam  to  find, 
Whom  empty  terror  thrills 

Of  woods  and  whispering  wind. 

VOL.  I — 4.  [491 


Ibocati  Carmlnum  Xib.  i 

nam  seu  mobilibus  veris  inhorruit 
adventus   foliis,   seu   virides   rubum 
dimovere  lacertae, 

et  corde  et  genibus  tremit. 
atqui  non  ego  te,  tigris  ut  aspera 
Gaetulusve   leo,   frangere   persequor: 
tandem  desine  matrem 
tempestiva  sequi  viro. 


XXIV 

Quis  desiderio  sit  pudor  aut  modus 
tam  cari  capitis?  praecipe  lugubris 
cantus,   Melpomene,   cui   liquidam  pater 

vocem  cum  cithara  dedit. 
ergo   Quintilium  perpetuus   sopor 
urget?  cui  Pudor  et  lustitiae  soror, 
incorrupta    Fides,   nudaque    Veritas 

quando   ullum   inveniet   parem? 
multis   ille  bonis   flebilis  occidit, 
nulli  flebilior,  quam  tibi,  Vergili. 
tu  frustra  pius,  heu,  non  ita  creditum 

poscis   Quintilium   deos. 
quid  si  Threicio  blandius  Orpheo 
auditam   moderere   arboribus   fidem, 
non    vanae    redeat    sanguis    imagini, 

quam  virga  semel  horrida 

[501 


©Des  of  Iborace,  1Sool\  i 

Whether  't  is  Spring's  first  shiver,  faintly  heard 
Through  the  light  leaves,  or  lizards  in  the  brake 
The  rustling  thorns  have  stirr'd. 
Her  heart,  her  knees,  they  quake. 
Yet  I,  who  chase  you,  no  grim  lion  am, 
No  tiger  fell,  to  crush  you  in  my  gripe: 
Come,  learn  to  leave  your  dam, 
For  lover's  kisses  ripe. 


XXIV 

Why  blush  to  let  our  tears  unmeasured  fall 

For  one  so  dear?     Begin  the  mournful  stave, 
Melpomene,  to  whom  the   Sire  of  all 

Sweet  voice  with  music  gave. 
And  sleeps  he  then  the  heavy  sleep  of  death, 

Quintilius?  Piety,  twin  sister  dear 
Of  Justice!  naked  Truth!  unsullied  Faith! 

When  will  ye  find  his  peer? 
By  many  a  good  man  wept,  Quintilius  dies; 

By  none  than  you,  my  Virgil,  trulier  wept: 
Devout  in  vain,  you  chide  the  faithless  skies. 

Asking  your  loan  ill-kept. 
No,  though  more  suasive  than  the  bard  of  Thrace 
You  swept  the  lyre  that  trees  were  fain  to  hear. 
Ne'er  should  the  blood  revisit  his  pale  face 
Whom  once  with  wand  severe 

[511 


Iborati  Carmtnum  Xib.  i 

non  lenis  precibus  fata  recludere 
nigro  compulerit  Mercurius  gregi. 
durum:  sed  levius  fit  patientia 
quicquid   corrigere   est   nefas. 


XXV 

Parcius  iunctas  quatiunt  fenestras 
iactibus  crebris   iuvenes  protervi, 
nee  tibi  somnos  adimunt,  amatque    . 

ianua  limen, 
quae  prius  multum  facilis  movebat 
cardines.     audis  minus   et  minus   iam 
"  me  tuo  longas  pereunte  noctes, 
Lydia,  dermis?  " 

r52! 


Q^cs  Of  iborace,  :©ooft  i 

Mercury  has  folded  with  the  sons  of  night, 

Untaught  to  prayer  Fate's  prison  to  unseal. 
Ah,  heavy  grief!  but  patience  makes  more  light 
What  sorrow  may  not  heal. 

XXV  1 

Swains  in  numbers 

Break  your  slumbers, 

Saucy  Lydia,  now  but  seldom, 

Ay,  though  at  your  casement  nightly, 

Tapping  loudly,  tapping  lightly, 

By  the  dozens  once  ye  held  them. 

Ever   turning, 

Night  and  morning. 

Swung  your  door  upon  its  hinges; 

Now,  from  dawn  till  evening's  closing, 

Lone  and  desolate  reposing, 

Not  a  soul  its  rest  infringes. 

Serenaders, 

Sweet  invaders, 

Scanter  grow,  and  daily  scanter, 

Singing:  "Lydia,  art  thou  sleeping? 

Lonely  watch   thy  love   is  keeping! 

Wake,  0^  wake,  thou  dear  enchanter!  " 

1  Translatedi  by  Theodore  Martin, 
163] 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.   i 

invicem  moechos  anus  arrogantis 
flebis    in    solo    levis    angiportu, 
Thracio  bacchante  magis  sub  inter- 

lunia  vento, 
cum  tibi  flagrans  amor  et  libido, 
quae    solet    matres    furiare    equorum, 
saeviet  circa  iecur  ulcerosum, 

non  sine  questu, 
laeta  quod  pubes  hedera  virenti 
gaudeat  pulla  magis  atque  myrto, 
aridas  frondes  hiemis   sodali 

dedicet  Hebro. 


XXVI 

Musis  amicus  tristitiam  et  metus 
tradam  protervis  in  mare  Creticum 
portare  ventis,  quis  sub  Arcto 
rex  gelidae  metuatur  orae, 
quid  Tiridaten  terreat,  unice 
securus.     o   quae   fontibus   integris 
gaudes,  apricos  necte  flores, 
necte   meo   Lamiae   coronam, 
Pimplea  dulcis.     nil  sine  te  mei 
prosunt  honores:  hunc  fidibus  novis, 
hunc  Lesbio  sacrare  plectro 
teque  tuasque  decet  sorores. 

[54] 


©DCS  ot  iborace,  :©ooft  i 

Lorn  and  faded, 

You,  as  they  did, 

Woo,  and  in  your  turn  are  slighted; 

Worn   and  torn   by  passion's  fret. 

You,  the  pitiless  coquette. 

Waste  by  fires  yourself  have  lighted. 

Late  relenting. 

Left  lamenting, — 

"  Withered  leaves  strew  wintry  brooks ! 

Ivy   garlands   greenly    darkling. 

Myrtles  brown  with   dew-drops   sparkling, 

Best  beseem  youth's  glowing  looks!  " 

XXVI 

The  Muses  love  me:  fear  and  grief, 

The  winds  may  blow  them  to  the  sea; 
Who  quail  before  the  wintry  chief 

Of  Scythia's  realm,  is  nought  to  me. 
What  cloud  o'er  Tiridates  lowers, 

I  care  not,  I.     O,  nymph  divine 
Of  virgin  springs,  with  sunniest  flowers 

A  chaplet  for  my  Lamia  twine, 
Pimplea  sweet!  my  praise  were  vain 

Without  thee.     String  this   maiden   lyre, 
Attune  for  him  the  Lesbian  strain, 

0   goddess,  with  thy  sister  quire! 

[55] 


Iborati  Carmlnum  Xlb.  i 


XXVII 


Natis  in  usum  laetitiae  scyphis 
pugnare    Thracum   est:    tollite   barbarum 
morem  verecundumque  Bacchum 
sanguineis  prohibete  rixis. 
vino  et  lucernis  Medus  acinaces 
immane  quantum  discrepat;   impium 
lenite  clamorem,  sodales, 
et    cubito    remanete    presso. 
voltis  severi  me  quoque  sumere 
partem  Falerni?  dicat  Opuntiae 
frater  Megyllae,  quo  beatus 
volnere,  qua  pereat  sagitta. 
cessat  voluntas?  non  alia  bibam 
mercede.     quae  te  cumque  domat  Venus, 
non  erubescendis  adurit 
ignibus   ingenuoque   semper 
amore  peccas:  quicquid  habes,  age 
depone  tutis  auribus.     a  miser, 
quanta  laborabas  Charybdi, 
digne  puer  meliore  flamma! 
quae  saga,  quis  te  solvere  Thessalis 
magus   venenis,    quis   poterit   deus? 
vix  inligatum  te  triformi 
Pegasus  expediet  Chimaerai 


®De6  of  Iborace,  JiSooft  i 


XXVII 


What,  fight  with  cups  that  should  give  joy? 

'T  is  barbarous;  leave  such  savage  ways 
To  Thracians.     Bacchus,  shamefaced  boy, 

Is  blushing  at  your  bloody  frays. 
The  Median  sabre !   lights  and  wine ! 

Was   stranger  contrast  ever  seen? 
Cease,  cease  this  brawling,  comrades  mine, 

And   still   upon   your   elbows   lean. 
Well,  shall  I  take  a  toper's  part 

Of  fierce  Falernian?  let  our  guest, 
Megilla's  brother,  say  what  dart 

Gave  the  death-wound  that  makes  him  blest. 
He  hesitates?  no  other  hire 

Shall  tempt  my  sober  brains.     Whatever 
The  goddess  tames  you,  no  base  fire 

She  kindles;  'tis  some  gentle  fair 
Allures  you  still.     Come,  tell  me  truth. 

And  trust  my  honour.— That  the  name? 
That  wild  Charybdis  yours?  Poor  youth! 

O,  you  deserved  a  better  flame! 
What  wizard,  what  Thessalian  spell, 

What  god  can  save  you,  hampered  thus? 
To  cope  with  this  Chimaera  fell 

Would  task  another  Pegasus. 

157] 


Iborati  Carmlnum  Xlb.  i 


XXVIII 


Te  maris  et  terrae  numeroque  carentis  harenae, 

mensorem  cohibent,  Archyta, 
pulveris  exigui  prope  litus  parva  Matinum 

munera,  nee   quicquam  tibi  prodest 
aerias.temptasse  domos  animoque  rotundum 

percurrisse   polum   morituro. 
occidit  et  Pelopis  genitor,  conviva  deorum, 

Tithonusque    remotus    in    auras, 
et  lovis  arcanis  Minos  admissus,  habentque 

Tartara  Panthoiden  iterum  Oreo 
demissum,   quamvis   clipeo   Troiana   refixo 

tempora  testatus  nihil  ultra 
nervos  atque  eutem  morti  eoneesserat  atrae, 

iudiee  te  non   sordidus  auctor 
naturae  verique.    sed  omnis  una  manet  nox 

et  caleanda  semel  via  leti. 
dant  alios  Furiae  torvo  speetaeula  Marti, 

exitiost  avidum  mare  nautis; 
mixta  senum  ae  iuvenum  densentur  funera,  nullum 

saeva  caput  Proserpina  fugit; 
me  quoque  devexi  rapidus  eomes  Orionis 

Illyrieis  Notus  obruit  undis. 
at  tu,  nauta,  vagae  ne  paree  malignus  harenae 

ossibus  et  capiti  inhumato 
partieulam  dare:   sie,  quodeumque  minabitur  Eurus 

fluctibus  Hesperiis,  Venusinae 

[58] 


©Des  ot  Iboracc,  :Bool\  i 


XXVIII 


The  sea,  the  earth,  the  innumerable  sand, 

Archytas,  thou  couldst  measure;  now,  alas! 
A  little  dust  on  Matine  shore  has  spann'd 

That  soaring  spirit;  vain  it  was  to  pass 
The  gates  of  heaven,  and  send  thy  soul  in  quest 

O'er  air's  wide  realms;  for  thou  hadst  yet  to  die 
Ay,  dead  is  Pelops'  father,  heaven's  own  guest. 

And  old  Tithonus,  rapt  from  earth  to  sky. 
And  Minos,  made  the  council-friend  of  Jove; 

And  Panthus'  son  has  yielded  up  his  breath 
Once    more,   though    down    he    pluck'd    the 
shield,  to  prove 

His  prowess  under  Troy,  and  bade  grim  death 
O'er  skin  and  nerves  alone  exert  its  power, 

Not  he,  you  grant,  in  nature  meanly  read. 
Yes,  all  "  await  the  inevitable  hour  " ; 

The  downward  journey  all  one  day  must  tread. 
Some  bleed,  to  glut  the  war-god's  savage  eyes; 

Fate  meets  the  sailor  from  the  hungry  brine; 
Youth  jostles  age  in  funeral  obsequies; 

Each  brow  in  turn  is  touch'd  by  Proserpine. 
Me,  too,   Orion's  mate,  the   Southern   blast, 

Whelm'd  in  deep  death  beneath  the  Illyrian  wave. 
But  grudge  not,  sailor,  of  driven  sand  to  cast 

A  handful  on  my  head,  that  owns  no  grave. 
So,  though  the   eastern  tempests   loudly  threat 

Hesperia's  main,  may  green  Venusia's  crown 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.  i 

plectanur    silvae    te    sospite,    multaque    merces, 

unde  potest,  tibi  defluat  aequo 
ab  love  Neptunoque  sacri  custode  Tarenti. 

neclegis   inmeritis   nocituram 
postmodo  te  natis   fraudem   committere?   forset 

debita  iura  vicesque  superbae 
te  maneant  ipsum:  precibus  non  linquar  inultis, 

teque  piacula  nulla  resolvent, 
quamquam   festinas,  non   est  mora   longa:    licebit 

iniecto  ter  pulvere  curras. 


XXIX 

Icci,  beatis  nunc  Arabum  invides 
gazis  et  acrem  militiam  paras 
non  ante  devictis  Sabaeae 
regibus    horribilique    Medo 
nectis  catenas,     quae  tibi  virginum 
sponso  necato  barbara  serviet? 
puer  quis  ex  aula   capillis 

ad   cyathum   statuetur   unctis, 
doctus   sagittas   tendere    Sericas 
arcu  paterno?  quis  neget  arduis 
pronos  relabi  posse  rivos 
montibus  et  Tiberim  reverti, 
[60] 


0^C6  Of  Iborace,  JBooft  i 

Be  stripp'd,  while  you  lie  warm;  may  blessings  yet 

Stream   from   Tarentum's   guard,   great   Neptune, 
down, 
And  gracious  Jove,  into  your  open  lap! 

What!  shrink  you  not  from  crime  whose  punish- 
ment 
Falls  on  your  innocent  children?  it  may  hap 

Imperious  Fate  will  make  yourself  repent 
My  prayers  shall  reach  the  avengers  of  all  wrong; 

No   expiations   shall   the  curse   unbind. 
Great  though  your  haste,  I  would  not  task  you  long; 

Thrice  sprinkle  dust,  then  scud  before  the  wind. 


XXIX 

Your  heart  on  Arab  wealth  is  set, 

Good  Iccius:  you  would  try  your  steel 
On   Saba's  kings,  unconquer'd  yet, 

And  make  the  Mede  your  fetters  feel. 
Come,  tell  me  what  barbarian  fair 

Will    serve   you    now,    her   bridegroom    slain? 
What  page  from  court  with  essenced  hair 

Will  tender  you   the  bowl   you   drain, 
Well  skill'd  to  bend  the   Serian  bow 

His    father    carried?     Who    shall    say 
That  rivers  may  not  uphill  flow. 

And  Tiber's  self  return  one  day, 

[61] 


Iborati  Carminum  %ib,  i 

cum  tu  coemptos  undique  nobilis 
libros   Panaeti    Socraticam   et   domum 
mutare   loricis  Hiberis, 
pollicitus   meliora,   tendis? 

XXX 

O  Venus  regina  Cnidi  Paphique, 
sperne  dilectam  Cypron  et  vocantis 
ture   te   multo   Glycerae   decoram 

transfer  in  aedem. 
fervidus  tecum  puer  et  solutis 
Gratiae   zonis  properentque   Nymphae 
et  parum  comis  te  luventas 

Mercuriusque. 

XXXI 

Quid   dedicatum   poscit   Apollinem, 
vates?  quid  orat  de  patera  novom 

fundens   liquorem?   non   opimae 
Sardiniae  segetes  feraces, 
non   aestuosae   grata  Calabriae 
armenta,  non  aurum  aut  ebur  Indicum, 

non  rura  quae  Liris  quieta 

mordet  aqua  taciturnus  amnis. 
premant  Galena  falce  quibus  dedit 
fortuna  vitem,  dives  et  aureis 

[62] 


(^Des  ot  Iborace,  JSook  i 

If  you  would  change  Panaetius'  works, 
That  costly  purchase,  and  the  clan 

Of  Socrates,  for  shields  and  dirks. 
Whom  once  we  thought  a  saner  man? 

XXX 

Come,  Cnidian,   Paphian   Venus,  come, 

Thy  well-beloved  Cyprus  spurn. 
Haste,  where  for  thee  in  Glycera's  home 

Sweet  odours  burn. 
Bring  too  thy  Cupid,  glowing  warm, 

Graces  and  Nymphs,  unzoned  and  free. 
And  Youth,  that  lacking  thee  lacks  charm, 
And  Mercury. 

XXXI 

What  blessing  shall  the  bard  entreat 

The  god  he  hallows,  as  he  pours 
The  winecup?     Not  the   mounds   of  wheat 

That  load  Sardinian  threshing  floors; 
Not  Indian  gold  or  ivory — no, 

Nor  flocks  that  o'er  Calabria  stray, 
Nor  fields  that  Liris,  still  and  slow. 

Is  eating,  unperceived,  away. 
Let  those  whose  fate  allows  them  train 

Calenum's  vine;  let  trader  bold 

[631 


Iborati  Garminum  2Lib.  i 

mercator  exsiccet  culullis 
vina  Syra  reparata  merce, 
dis  cams  ipsis,  quippe  ter  et  quater 
anno   revisens   aequor   Atlanticum 
impune:   me  pascunt  olivae, 
me  cichorea  levesque  malvae. 
frui  paratis  et  valido  mihi, 
Latoe,  dones  et  precor  Integra 
cum  mente  nee  turpem  senectam 
degere   nee    cithara    carentem. 

XXXII 

PosciMUR.    siquid  vacui  sub  umbra 
lusimus  tecum,  quod  et  hunc  in  annum 
vivat  et  pluris,  age  die  Latinum, 

barbite,   carmen, 
Lesbio    primum    modulate    civi, 
qui,  ferox  bello,  tamen  inter  arma, 
sive  iactatam  religarat  udo 

litore  navem, 
Liberum  et   Musas   Veneremque  et  illi 
semper  haerentem  puerum  canebat 
et  Lycum  nigris  oculis  nigroque 

crine  decorum, 
o  decus  Phoebi  et  dapibus  supremi 
grata   testudo   lovis,   o   laborum 
dulce  lenimen,  mihi  cumque  salve 

rite  vocanti. 

[64] 


Q^C6  ot  Iboracc,  :flSoo?i  i 

From  golden  cups  rich  liquor  drain 

For  wares  of  Syria  bought  and  sold, 
Heaven's  favourite,  sooth,  for  thrice  a  year 

He  comes  and  goes  across  the  brine 
Undamaged.     I   in   plenty  here 

On   endives,   mallows,   succory   dine. 
0  grant  me,  Phoebus,  calm  content, 

Strength   unimpair'd,   a   mind  entire, 
Old  age  without  dishonour  spent, 

Nor  unbefriended  by  the  lyre! 

XXXII 

They  call; — if  aught  in   shady  dell 

We  twain  have  warbled,  to  remain 
Long  months  or  years,  now  breathe,  my  shell, 

A  Roman  strain. 
Thou,  strung  by  Lesbos'  minstrel  hand, 

The  bard,  who  'mid  the  clash  of  steel 
Or  haply  mooring  to  the  strand 

His  batter'd  keel. 
Of  Bacchus  and  the  Muses  sung. 
And  Cupid,  still  at  Venus'  side, 
And  Lycus,  beautiful  and  young, 

Dark-hair'd,  dark-eyed. 
0  sweetest  lyre,  to  Phoebus  dear. 

Delight  of  Jove's  high  festival. 
Blest  balm  in  trouble,  hail  and  hear 
Whene'er  I  call! 

VOL.  I.— s  [65] 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.  i 


XXXIII 


Albi,  ne  doleas  plus  nimio  memor 
immitis  Glycerae,  neu  miserabilis 
decantes  elegos,  cur  tibi  iunior 

laesa  praeniteat  fide, 
insignem  tenui  fronte  Lycorida 
Cyri  torret  amor,  Cyrus  in  asperam 
deciinat  Pholoen:  sed  prius  Apulis 

iungentur  capreae  lupis, 
quam   turpi    Pholoe   peccet   adultero. 
sic  visum  Veneri,  cui  placet  imparis 
formas  atque  animos  sub  iuga  aenea 

saevo  mittere  cum  ioco. 
ipsum  me  melior  cum  peteret  Venus 
grata  detinuit  compede  Myrtale 
libertina,   fretis   acrior   Hadriae 

curvantis  Calabros  sinus. 

XXXIV 

Parous   deorum   cultor   et  infrequens 
insanientis  dum  sapientiae 

consultus  erro,  nunc  retrorsum 
vela  dare  atque  iterare  cursus 
cogor   relictos:    namque   Diespiter, 
igni  corusco  nubila   dividens 
plerumque,  per  purum  tonantis 
egit  equos  volucremque  currum, 

[66J 


®DC0  Of  Iboracc,  Boot?  i 

XXXIII 

What,  Albius!  why  this  passionate  despair 

For  cruel  Glycera?  why  melt  your  voice 
In  dolorous  strains,  because  the  perjured  fair 

Has  made  a  younger  choice? 
See,  narrow-brow'd  Lycoris,  how  she  glows 
For  Cyrus!     Cyrus  turns  away  his  head 
To  Pholoe's  frown;  but  sooner  gentle  roes 

Apulian  wolves  shall  wed, 
Than  Pholoe  to  so  mean  a  conqueror  strike: 

So  Venus  wills  it;  'neath  her  brazen  yoke 
She  loves  to  couple  forms  and  minds  unlike. 

All  for  a  heartless  joke. 
For  me  sweet  Love  had  forged  a  milder  spell; 

But  Myrtale  still  kept  me  her  fond  slave. 
More  stormy  she  than  the  tempestuous  swell 
That  crests  Calabria's  wave. 

XXXIV 

My  prayers  were  scant,  my  offerings  few, 

While  witless  wisdom  fool'd  my  mind; 
But  now  I  trim  my  sails  anew. 

And  trace  the  course  I  left  behind. 
For  lo!  the  Sire  of  heaven  on  high. 

By  whose  fierce  bolts  the  clouds  are  riven, 
To-day  through  an  unclouded  sky 

His  thundering  steeds  and  car  has  driven. 

[67] 


Iborati  Carminum  Xlb.  i 

quo  bruta  tellus  et  vaga  flumina, 
quo  Styx  et  invisi  horrida  Taenari 
sedes  Atlanteusque  finis 

concutitur.     valet   ima    summis 
mutare  et  insignem  attenuat  deus, 
obscura    promens;    hinc    apicem    rapax 
fortuna  cum  stridore  acuto 
sustulit,  hie   posuisse   gaudet. 


XXXV 

O  DIVA,  gratum  quae  regis  Antium, 
praesens  vel  imo  tollere  de  gradu 
mortale    corpus    vel    superbos 
vertere  funeribus  triumphos: 
te   pauper  ambit   sollicita  prece 
ruris   colonus,    te    dominam   aequoris 
quicumque  Bithyna  lacessit 
Carpathium  pelagus  carina, 
te  Dacus  asper,  te  profugi  Scythae, 
urbesque   gentesque   et   Latium   ferox, 
regumque  matres  barbarorum  et 
purpurei  metuunt  tyranni, 
iniurioso  ne   pede   proruas 
stantem  columnam,  neu  populus  frequens 
ad  arma  cessantis,  ad  arma 
concitet  imperiumque  frangat. 

168] 


©Oe6  of  tborace,  :fi3ooft  i 

E'en  now  dull  earth  and  wandering  floods, 

And  Atlas'  limitary  range, 
And  Styx,  and  Taenarus'  dark  abodes 

Are  reeling.     He  can  lowliest  change 
And  loftiest;  bring  the  mighty  down 

And  lift  the  weak;  with  whirring  flight 
Comes  Fortune,  plucks  the  monarch's  crown, 

And  decks  therewith  some  meaner  wight. 


XXXV 

Lady  of  Antium,  grave  and  stern! 

O  Goddess,  who  canst  lift  the  low 
To  high  estate,  and   sudden  turn 

A  triumph  to  a  funeral  show! 
Thee  the  poor  hind  that  tills  the  soil 

Implores;  their  queen  they  own  in  thee, 
Who  in  Bithynian  vessel  toil 

Amid  the  vex'd  Carpathian  sea. 
The  Dacians  fierce,  and  Scythian  hordes. 

Peoples  and  towns,  and  Rome,  their  head, 
And  mothers  of  barbarian  lords. 

And  tyrants  in  their  purple  dread. 
Lest,  spurn'd  by  thee  in  scorn,  should  fall 

The  state's  tall  prop,  lest  crowds  on  fire 
To  arms,  to  arms  1  the  loiterers  call. 

And  thrones  be  tumbled  in  the  mire. 

[691 


Iboratf  Garminum  Xib.  i 

te   semper  anteit   saeva   Necessitas, 
clavos  trabalis   et  cuneos  manu 
gestans  aena,  nee  severus 

uncus  abest  liquidumque  plumbum, 
te  Spes  et  albo  rara  Fides  colit 
velata    panno,    nee    comitem    abnegat, 
utcumque  mutata  potentis 
veste  domos  inimica  linquis. 
ut  volgus  infidum  et  meretrix  retro 
periura    cedit,    diffugiunt    cadis 
cum   faece    siccatis   amici, 
ferre  iugum  pariter  dolosi. 
serves    iturum    Caesarem   in   ultimos 
orbis   Britannos   et   iuvenum   recens 
examen  Eois  timendum 
partibus  Oceanoque  rubro. 
eheu  cicatricum  et  sceleris  pudet 
fratrumque.     quid  nos  dura  refugimus 
aetas,  quid  intactum  nefasti 

liquimus?  unde  manum  iuventus 
metu   deorum  continuit,   quibus 
pepercit  aris?  o  utinam  nova 
incude  diffingas  retunsum  in 
Massagetas  Arabasque  ferrum. 

XXXVI 

Et  ture  et  fidibus  iuvat 

placare  et  vituli  sanguine  debito 
[70] 


©DCS  ot  Iborace,  ffioofti 

Necessity  precedes  thee  still 

With  hard  fierce  eyes  and  heavy  tramp; 
Her  hand  the  nails  and  wedges  fill, 

The  molten  lead  and   stubborn  clamp. 
Hope,  precious  Truth  in  garb  of  white. 

Attend  thee  still,  nor  quit  thy  side 
When  with  changed  robes  thou  tak'st  thy  flight 

In  anger  from  the  homes  of  pride. 
Then  the  false  herd,  the  faithless  fair. 

Start  backward;  when  the  wine  runs  dry. 
The  jocund  guests,  too  light  to  bear 

An  equal  yoke,  asunder  fly 
0  shield  our  Caesar  as  he  goes 

To  furthest  Britain,  and  his  band, 
Rome's  harvest!     Send  on  Eastern  foes 

Their  fear,  and  on  the  Red  Sea  strand! 
O  wounds  that  scarce  have  ceased  to  run! 

0  brother's  blood!     0  iron  time! 
What  horror  have  we  left  undone? 

Has  conscience  shrunk  from  aught  of  crime? 
What  shrine  has  rapine  held  in  awe? 

What  altar  spared?     O  haste  and  beat 
The  blunted  steel  we  yet  may  draw 

On  Arab  and  on  Massagete! 

XXXVI 

Bid  the  lyre  and  cittern  play; 
Enkindle  incense,  shed  the  victim's  gore, 

[7i] 


Iboratl  Carmfnum  %ib,  i 

custodes   Numidae   deos, 

qui  nunc  Hesperia  sospes  ab  ultima 
caris  multa  sodalibus, 

nulli  plura  tamen  dividit  oscula 
quam  dulci  Lamiae,  memor 

actae  non  alio  rege  puertiae 
mutataeque  simul  togae. 

cressa  ne  careat  pulchra  dies  nota, 
neu  promptae  modus   amphorae, 

neu   morem   in    Salium   sit   requies   pedum, 
neu  multi  Damalis  meri 

Bassum  Threicia  vincat  amystide, 
neu  desint  epulis  rosae 

neu  vivax  apium  neu  breve  lilium. 
omnes  in  Damalin  putris 

deponent  oculos,  nee  Damalis  novo 
divelletur   adultero, 

lascivis    hederis    ambitiosior. 

XXXVII 

Nunc  est  bibendun,  nunc  pede  libero 
pulsanda  tellus,  nunc  Saliaribus 
ornare  pulvinar  deorum 

tempus   erat   dapibus,   sodales. 
antehac  nefas   depromere   Caecubum 
cellis  avitis,  dum  Capitolio 
regina  dementis  ruinas 
funus  et  imperio  parabat 

[72] 


©Des  of  iboracc,  :©ooft  i 

Heaven  has  watch'd  o'er  Numida, 
And  brings  him  safe  from  far  Hispania's  shore. 

Now,  returning,  he  bestows 
On  each  dear  comrade  all  the  love  he  can; 

But  to  Lamia  most  he  owes, 
By  whose  sweet  side  he  grew  from  boy  to  man. 

Note  we  in  our  calendar 
This  festal  day  with  whitest  mark  from  Crete: 

Let  it  flow,  the  old  wine- jar, 
And  ply  to  Salian  time  your  restless  feet. 

Damalis  tosses  off  her  wine. 
But  Bassus  sure  must  prove  her  match  to-night. 

Give  us  roses  all  to  twine. 
And  parsley  green  and  lilies  deathly  white. 

Every  melting  eye  will  rest 
On  Damalis'  lovely  face;  but  none  may  part 

Damalis  from  our  new-found  guest; 
She  clings,  and  clings,  like  ivy,  round  his  heart. 

XXXVII 

Now  drink  we  deep,  now  featly  tread 

A  measure;  now  before  each  shrine 
With  Salian  feasts  the  table  spread; 

The  time  invites  us,  comrades  mine. 
'T  was  shame  to  broach,  before  to-day. 

The  Caecuban,  while  Egypt's  dame 
Threaten'd  our  power  in  dust  to  lay 

And  wrap  the  Capitol  in  flame, 

[73] 


Iborati  Carmlnum  Xib.  i 

contaminato    cum    grege    turpium 
morbo  virorum,  quidlibet  impotens 
sperare  fortunaque  dulci 
ebria.     sed   minuit   furorem 
vix  una  sospes  navis  ab  ignibus, 
mentemque  lymphatam  Mareotico 
redegit  in  veros  timores 
Caesar,  ab  Italia  volantem 
remis  adurgens,  accipiter  velut 
mollis  columbas,   aut  leporem  citus 
venator  in   campis  nivalis 
Haemoniae,  daret  ut  catenis 
fatale  monstrum.     Quae  generosius 
perire  quaerens  nee  muliebriter 
expavit   ensem   nee   latentis 
classe  cita  reparavit  oras; 
ausa  et  iacentem  visere  regiam 
voltu  sereno,  fortis  et  asperas 
tractare  serpentes,  ut  atrum 
corpore    combiberet    venenum, 
deliberata  morte  ferocior; 
saevis  Liburnis  scilicet  invidens 
privata  deduci  superbo 

non  humilis  mulier  triumpho. 

XXXVIII 

Persicos  odi,  puer,  apparatus, 
displicent   nexae   philyra   coronas, 
[741 


®Des  ot  Iborace,  JBoo\{  i 

Girt  with  her  foul  emasculate  throng, 

By  Fortune's  sweet  new  wine  befool'd, 
In  hope's  ungovern'd  weakness   strong 

To  hope  for  all;  but  soon  she  cool'd, 
To  see  one  ship  from  burning  'scape; 

Great  Caesar  taught  her  dizzy  brain, 
Made  mad  by  Mareotic  grape, 

To  feel  the  sobering  truth  of  pain, 
And  gave  her  chase  from  Italy, 

As  after  doves  fierce  falcons  speed. 
As  hunters  'neath  Haemonia's  sky 

Chase  the  tired  hare,  so  might  he  lead 
The  fiend  enchain'd;  she  sought  to  die 

More  nobly,  nor  with  woman's  dread 
Quail'd  at  the  steel,  nor  timorously 

In  her  fleet  ships  to  covert  fled. 
Amid  her  ruin'd  halls  she  stood 

Unblench'd,  and  fearless  to  the  end 
Grasp'd  the  fell  snakes,  that  all  her  blood 

Might  with  the  cold  black  venom  blend, 
Death's  purpose  flushing  in  her  face; 

Nor  to  our  ships  the  glory  gave. 
That  she,  no  vulgar  dame,  should  grace 

A  triumph,   crownless,   and  a   slave. 

XXXVIII 

No  Persian  cumber,  boy,  for  me; 
I  hate  your  garlands  linden-plaited; 

F75] 


Iboratf  Carmmum  Xib,  i 

mitte  sectari,  rosa  quo  locorum 

sera  moretur. 
simplici  myrto  nihil  adlabores 
sedulus  cyro:  neque  te  ministrum 
dedecet  myrtus  neque  me  sub  arta 

vite  bibentem. 


676] 


©Des  ot  Iborace,  JSooft  i 

Leave  winter's  rose  where  on  the  tree 

It  hangs  belated. 
Wreathe  me  plain  myrtle;  never  think 
Plain  myrtle  either's  wear  unfitting 
Yours  as  you  wait,  mine  as  I  drink 
In  vine-bower  sitting. 


[77] 


LIBER  SECUNDUS 


JWIOTUM  ex  Metello  consule  civicum 
bellique  causas  et  vitia  et  modos, 
ludumque   Fortunae  gravisque 
principum  amicitias  et  arma 
nondum  expiatis  uncta  cruoribus, 
periculosae  plenum  opus  aleae, 
tractas  et  incedis  per  ignes 
suppositos  cineri   doloso. 
paulum  severae  Musa  tragoediae 
desit  theatris:   mox,  ubi  publicas 
res  ordinaris,  grande  munus 
Cecropio  repetes  coturno, 
insigne  maestis  praesidium  reis 
et  consulenti,  Pollio,  curiae, 
cui  laurus  aeternos  honores 
Delmatico  peperit  triumpho. 
iam  nunc  minaci  murmure  cornuum 
perstringis  auris,  iam  litui  strepunt, 
iam  fulgor  armorum  fugacis 

terret   equos   equitumque   voltus. 

178] 


BOOK  II 


The  broils  that  from  Metellus  date, 

The  secret  springs,  the  dark  intrigues, 
The  freaks  of  Fortune,  and  the  great 

Confederate  in  disastrous  leagues, 
And  arms  with  uncleansed  slaughter  red, 

A  work  of  danger  and  distrust. 
You  treat,  as  one  on  fire  should  tread 

Scarce  hid  by  treacherous  ashen  crust. 
Let  Tragedy's  stern  muse  be  mute 

Awhile;  and  when  your  order'd  page 
Has  told  Rome's  tale,  that  buskin'd  foot 

Again  shall  mount  the  Attic  stage, 
Pollio,  the  pale  defendant's  shield, 

In  deep  debate  the  senate's  stay, 
The  hero  of  Dalmatic  field 

By  Triumph  crown'd  with  deathless  bay. 
E'en  now  with  trumpet's  threatening  blare 

You  thrill  our  ears;  the  clarion  brays; 
The  lightnings  of  the  armour  scare 

The  steed,  and  daunt  the  rider's  gaze. 

[79] 


Iborati  Carmfnum  Xib.  ii 

audire  magnos  iam  videor  duces 
non  indecoro  pulvere  sordidos 
et  cuncta  terrarum  subacta 

praeter    atrocem   animum    Catonis. 
luno  et  deorum  quisquis  amicior 
Afris  inulta  cesserat  impotens 
tellure,  victorum  nepotes 
rettulit   inferias   lugurthae. 
quis  non  Latino  sanguine  pinguior 
campus    sepulchris   impia   proelia 
testatur  auditumque  Medis 
Hesperiae  sonitum  ruinae? 
qui  gurges  aut  quae  flumina  lugubris 
ignara  belli?  quod  mare  Dauniae 
non  decoloravere  caedes? 

quae  caret  ora  cruore  nostro? 
sed  ne  relictis,  Musa,  procax  iocis 
Ceae  retractes  munera  neniae: 
mecum  Dionaeo  sub  antro 

quaere  modos  leviore  plectro. 

II 

NuLLUS  argento  color  est  avaris 
abdito   terris,   inimice   lamnae 
Crispe   Sallusti,  nisi  temperato 

splendeat  usu. 
vivet  extento  Proculeius  aevo, 
notus  in  fratres  animi  paterni; 

[80] 


©Des  of  Iboracc,  JBooft  ii 

Methinks  I  hear  of  leaders  proud 

With   no   uncomely   dust   distain'd, 
And  all  the  world  by  conquest  bow'd, 

And  only  Cato's  soul  unchain'd. 
Yes,  Juno  and  the  powers  on  high 

That  left  their  Afric  to  its  doom, 
Have  led  the  victors'  progeny 

As  victims  to  Jugurtha's  tomb. 
What  field,  by  Latin  blood-drops  fed, 

Proclaims  not  the  unnatural  deeds 
It  buries,  and  the  earthquake  dread 

Whose  distant  thunder  shook  the  Medes? 
What  gulf,  what  river  has  not  seen 

Those  sights  of  sorrow?  nay,  what  sea 
Has   Daunian  carnage  yet  left  green? 

What  coast  from  Roman  blood  is  free? 
But  pause,  gay  Muse,  nor  leave  your  play 

Another  Cean  dirge  to  sing; 
With  me  to  Venus'  bower  away. 

And  there  attune  a  lighter  string. 

II 

The  silver,  Sallust,  shows  not  fair 
While  buried  in  the  greedy  mine: 

You  love  it  not  till  moderate  wear 
Have  given  it  shine. 

Honour  to  Proculeius!  he 

To  brethren  play'd  a  father's  part; 
Vol.  I.— 6  [81] 


Iborati  Carminum  %ib,  ii 

ilium  aget  pinna  metuente  solvi 

fama  superstes. 
latius  regnes  avidum  domando 
spiritum,  quam  si  Libyam  remotis 
Gadibus  iungas  et  uterque  Poenus 

serviat  uni. 
crescit  indulgens  sibi  dirus  hydrops, 
nee  sitim  pellit,  nisi  causa  morbi 
fugerit  venis  et  aquosus  albo 

corpore  languor, 
redditum  Cyri  solio  Phraaten 
dissidens  plebi  numero  beatorum 
eximit  virtus  populumque  falsis 

dedocet  uti 
vocibus,  regnum  et  diadema  tutum 
deferens   uni    propriamque   laurum, 

quisquis  ingentis  oculo  inretorto 
spectat  acervos. 

Ill 

Aequam  memento  rebus  in  arduis 
servare  mentem,  non  secus  in  bonis 
ab  insolenti  temperatam 
laetitia,  moriture  Belli, 
seu  maestus  omni  tempore  vixeris, 
seu  te  in  remoto  gramine  per  dies 
festos  reclinatum  bearis 
interiore  nota  Falerni. 
[82] 


©Des  ot  Iborace,  JSoolft  ii 

Fame  shall  embalm  through  years  to  be 

That  noble  heart. 
Who  curbs  a  greedy  soul  may  boast 

More  power  than  if  his  broad-based  throne 
Bridged  Libya's  sea,  and  either  coast 

Were  all  his  own. 
Indulgence  bids  the  dropsy  grow; 

Who  fain  would  quench  the  palate's  flame 
Must  rescue  from  the  watery  foe 

The  pale  weak  frame. 
Phraates,  throned  where  Cyrus  sate, 

May  count  for  blest  with  vulgar  herds. 
But  not  with  Virtue;  soon  or  late 

From  lying  words 
She  weans  men's  lips;  for  him  she  keeps 
The  crown,  the  purple,  and  the  bays. 
Who  dares  to  look  on  treasure-heaps 
With  unblench'd  gaze. 

Ill 

An  equal  mind,  when  storms  o'ercloud, 

Maintain,  nor  'neath  a  brighter  sky 
Let  pleasure  make  your  heart  too  proud, 

O   Dellius,  Dellius!   sure  to  die. 
Whether  in  gloom  you  spend  each  year, 

Or  through  long  holydays  at  ease 
In  grassy  nook  your  spirit  cheer 

With  old   Falernian  vintages, 

[83] 


Doratt  Carminum  X(b.  ii 

quo  pinus  ingens  albaque  populus 
umbram  hospitalem  consociare  amant 
ramis?   quid   obliquo   laborat 
lympha   fugax  trepidare   rivo? 
hue  vina  et  unguenta  et  nimium  brevis 
flores  amoenae  ferre  iube  rosae, 
dum  res  et  aetas  et  sororum 
fila  trium  patiuntur  atra. 
cedes  coemptis  saltibus  et  domo 
villaque,  flavos  quam  Tiberis  lavit, 
cedes,  et  extructis  in  altum 
divitiis  potietur  heres. 
divesne  prisco  natus  ab  Inacho, 
nil  interest,  an  pauper  et  infima 
de   gente   sub   divo  moreris, 
victima  nil  miserantis  Orci: 
omnes  eodem  cogimur,  omnium 
versatur  urna  serius  ocius 

sors  exitura  et  nos  in  aeternum 
exilium   inpositura   cumbae. 

IV 

Ne  sit  ancillae  tibi  amor  pudori, 
Xanthia    Phoceu,   prius    insolentem 
serva  Briseis  niveo  colore 

movit  Achillem; 
movit  Aiacem  Telamone  natum 
forma  captivae  dominum  Tecmessae; 

[84] 


©Ocs  ot  Iboracc,  JBooft  ii 

Where  poplar  pale  and  pine-tree  high 

Their  hospitable  shadows  spread 
Entwined,  and  panting  waters  try 

To  hurry  down  their  zigzag  bed. 
Bring  wine  and  scents,  and  roses'  bloom, 

Too  brief,  alas!  to  that  sweet  place. 
While  life,  and  fortune,  and  the  loom 

Of  the  Three  Sisters  yield  you  grace. 
Soon  must  you  leave  the  woods  you  buy, 

Your  villa,  wash'd  by  Tiber's  flow. 
Leave, — and  your  treasures,  heap'd  so  high, 

Your  reckless  heir  will  level  low. 
Whether  from   Argos'   founder  born 

In  wealth  you  lived  beneath  the  sun, 
Or  nursed  in  beggary  and  scorn. 

You  fall  to  Death,  who  pities  none. 
One  way  all  travel;  the  dark  urn 

Shakes  each  man's  lot,  that  soon  or  late 
Will  force  him,  hopeless  of  return. 

On  board  the  exile-ship  of  Fate. 

IV 

Why,  Xanthias,  blush  to  own  you  love 
Your   slave?     Briseis,   long  ago, 

A  captive,  could  Achilles  move 
With  breast  of  snow. 

Tecmassa's  charms  enslaved  her  lord, 
Stout  Ajax,  heir  of  Telamonj 

[85] 


Iborati  Carmlnum  Xib.  ii 

arsit  Atrides  medio  in  triumpho 

virgine   rapta, 
barbarae  postquam  cecidere  turmae 
Thessalo  victore  et  ademptus  Hector 
tradidit  fessis  leviora  tolli 

Pergama  Grais. 
nescias,  an  te  generum  beati 
Phyllidis  flavae  decorent  parentes; 
regium  certe  genus  et  penatis 

maeret  iniquos. 
crede  non  illam  tibi  de  scelesta 
plebe  delectam,  neque  sic  fidelem, 
sic  lucro  aversam  potuisse  nasci 

matre  pudenda, 
bracchia   et  voltum  teretisque   suras 
integer  laudo:   fuge  suspicari 
cuius   octavom   trepidavit   aetas 

claudere  lustrum. 


NoNDUM  subacta  ferre  iugum  valet 
cervice,  nondum  munia  comparis 
aequare  nee  tauri   ruentis 
in  venerem  tolerare  pondus. 
circa  virentis  est  animus  tuae 
campos   iuvencae,  nunc   fluviis  gravem 

186] 


©Des  ot  iborace,  :©ooft  ii 

Atrides,  in  his  pride,  adored 
The   maid   he  won, 
When  Troy  to  Thessaly  gave  way, 

And  Hector's  all  too  quick  decease 
Made  Pergamus  an  easier  prey 

To  wearied  Greece. 
What  if,  as  auburn  Phyllis'  mate. 

You  graft  yourself  on  regal  stem? 
Oh  yes!  be  sure  her  sires  were  great; 

She  weeps  for  them. 
Believe  me,  from  no  rascal  scum 

Your  charmer  sprang;  so  true  a  flame, 
Such  hate  of  greed,  could  never  come 

From  vulgar  dame. 
With  honest  fervour  I  commend 

Those  lips,  those  eyes;  you  need  not  fear 
A  rival,  hurrying  on  to  end 
His  fortieth  year. 

Have  patience!     She's  plainly  too  tender,  you  see, 
The  yoke  on  her  delicate  shoulders  to  bear; 

So  young  as  she  is,  fit  she  never  could  be 
His  task  with  the  gentlest  yoke-fellow  to  share, 

Or  brook  the  assault  of  the  ponderous  bull, 
Rushing  headlong  the  fire  of  his  passion  to  cool. 

J  Translated  by  Theodore  Martin, 
[871 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.  ii 

solantis   aestum,  nunc  in  udo 
ludere  cum  vitulis  salicto 
praegestientis.     tolle  cupidinem 
immitis  uvae:  iam  tibi  lividos 
distinguet   autumnus   racemos 
purpureo  varius  colore, 
iam  te  sequetur:  currit  enim  ferox 
aetas,  et  illi,  quos  tibi  dempserit, 
apponet   annos:    iam   proterva 
fronte  petet   Lalage  maritum, 
dilecta  quantum  non  Pholoe  fugax, 
non  Chloris  albo  sic  umero  nitens, 
ut  pura  nocturno  renidet 
luna  mari  Cnidiusve  Gyges: 
quem  si  puellarum  insereres  choro, 
mire  sagacis  falleret  hospites 
discrimen  obscurum  solutis 
crinibus  ambiguoque  voltu. 


VI 

Septimi,  Gadis  aditure  mecum  et 
Cantabrum  indoctum   iuga   ferre  nostra  et 
barbaras  Syrtis,  ubi  Maura  semper 

aestuat  unda: 
Tibur  Argeo  positum  colono 
sit  meae  sedes  utinam  senectae, 
[88] 


©Des  of  Iboracc,  JSooft  ii 

At  present  your  heifer  finds  all  her  delight 

In  wandering  o'er  the  green  meadows  at  will, 
In  cooling  her  sides,  when  the  sun  is  at  height, 

In  the  iciest  pools  of  some  mountain-fed  rill. 
Or  'mid  the  dank  osier-beds  bounding  in  play 

With  the  young  calves,  as  sportive  and  skittish  as 
they. 
For  unripe  grapes  to  long  is  mere  folly;  soon,  too. 

Many-tinted  Autumnus  with  purple  will  dye 
Thy  clusters  that  now  wear  so  livid  a  hue; 

And  so  after  thee,  soon  her  glances  will  fly, 
For  merciless  Time  to  count  will  assign 

The  swift  speeding  years,  as  she  takes  them  from 
thine. 
And  then  will  the  Lalage  long  for  a  lord. 

Nor  shrink  from  the  secrets  of  conjugal  joy; 
By  thee  she  will  be,  too,  more  fondly  adored. 

Than  Pholoe's  self,  or  than  Chloris  the  coy. 
Her  beautiful  shoulders  resplendenly  white 

As  the  moon,  when  it  silvers  the  ocean  by  night. 

VI 

Septimius,  who  with  me  would  brave 

Far  Gades,  and  Cantabrian  land 
Untamed  by  Rome,  and  Moorish  wave 

That   whirls   the   sand; 
Fair  Tibur,  town  of  Argive  kings, 

There  would  I  end  my  days  serene, 

[89] 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.  ii 

sit  modus  lasso  maris  et  viarum 

militiaeque. 
unde  si  Parcae  prohibent  iniquae, 
dulce  pellitis  ovibus   Galaesi 
flumen  et  regnata  petam  Laconi 

rura  Phalantho. 
ille  terrarum  mihi  praeter  omnis 
angulus  ridet,  ubi  non  Hymetto 
mella  decedunt  viridique  certat 

baca  Venafro, 
ver  ubi  longum  tepidasque  praebet 
luppiter  brumas  et  amicus  Aulon 
fertili  Baccho  minimum  Falernis 

invidet  uvis. 
ille  te  mecum  locus  et  beatae 
postulant  arces,  ibi  tu  calentem 
debita  sparges  lacrima  favillam 

vatis  amici. 

VII 

O  SAEPE  mecum  tempus  in  ultimum 
deducte   Bruto  militiae  duce, 
quis  te  redonavit  Quiritem 
dis  patriis  Italoque  caelo, 
Pompei,  meorum  prime  sodalium, 
cum  quo  morantem  saepe  diem  mero 
fregi  coronatus  nitentis 
malobathro  Syrio  capillos? 

[90] 


©Dee  of  Iborace,  :f6ooft  ii 

At  rest  from  seas  and  travellings, 

And  service  seen. 
Should  angry  Fate  those  wishes  foil, 

Then  let  me  seek  Galesus,  sweet 
To  skin-clad  sheep,  and  that  rich  soil, 

'The  Spartan's  seat. 
0,  what  can  match  the  green  recess. 

Whose  honey  not  to  Hybla  yields. 
Whose  olives  vie  with  those  that  bless 

Venaf rum's  fields? 
Long  springs,  mild  winters  glad  that  spot 

By  Jove's  good  grace,  and  Aulon,  dear 
To  fruitful  Bacchus,  envies  not 

Falernian  cheer. 
That  spot,  those  happy  heights  desire 

Our  sojourn;  there,  when  life  shall  end, 
Your  tear  shall  dew  my  yet  warm  pyre, 
Your   bard   and   friend. 

VII 

O,  OFT  with  me  in  troublous  time 

Involved,  when  Brutus  warr'd  in  Greece, 
Who  gives  you  back  to  your  own  clime 

And  your  own  gods,  a  man  of  peace, 
Pompey,  the  earliest  friend  I  knew. 

With  whom  I  oft  cut  short  the  hours 
With  wine,  my  hair  bright  bathed  in  dew 

Of  Syrian  oils,  and  wreathed  with  flowers? 

[91] 


Ijorati  Garminum  %ib,  ii 

tecum  Philippos  et  celerem  fugam 
sensi  relicta  non  bene  parmula, 
cum  fracta  virtus  et  minaces 
turpe  solum  tetigere  mento. 
sed  me  per  hostis  Mercurius  celer 
denso  paventem  sustulit  aere; 
te   rursus   in   bellum   resorbens 
unda  fretis  tulit  aestuosis. 
ergo  obligatam  redde  lovi  dapem, 
longaque  fessum  militia  latus 
depone   sub  lauru   mea  nee 
parce  cadis  tibi  destinatis. 
oblivioso   levia   Massico 
ciboria  exple,  funde  capacibus 
unguenta  de  conchis.     Quis  udo 
deproperare  apio   coronas 
curatve  myrto?  quem  Venus  arbitrum 
dicet  bibendi?  non  ego  sanius 
bacchabor  Edonis:  recepto 
dulce  mihi  furere  est  amico. 

VIII 

Ulla  si  iuris  tibi  perierati 
poena,  Barine,  nocuisset  umquam, 
dente  si  nigi'o  fieres  vel  uno 

turpior  ungui, 
erederem:   sed  tu  simul  obligasti 
perfidum  votis  caput,  enitescis 

[92] 


©Des  of  Iborace,  :©ooft  ii 

With  you  I  shared  Philippi's  rout, 

Unseemly  parted  from  my  shield, 
When  Valour  fell,  and  warriors  stout 

Were  tumbled  on  the  inglorious  field: 
But  I  was  saved  by  Mercury, 

Wrapped  in  thick  mist,  yet  trembling  sore, 
While  you  to  that  tempestuous  sea 

Were  swept  by  battle's  tide  once  more. 
Come,  pay  to  Jove  the  feast  you  owe; 

Lay  down  those  limbs,  with  warfare  spent. 
Beneath  my  laurel;  nor  be  slow 

To  drain  my  cask;  for  you  'twas  meant. 
Lethe's  true  draught  is  Massic  wine; 

Fill  high  the  goblet;  pour  out  free 
Rich  streams  of  unguent.     Who  will  twine 

The  hasty  wreath  from  myrtle-tree 
Or  parsley?  Whom  will  Venus  seat 

Chairman  of  cups?  Are  Bacchants  sane? 
Then  I  '11  be  sober.     O,  't  is  sweet 

To  fool,  when  friends  come  home  again! 

VIII 

Had  chastisement  for  perjured  truth, 
Barine,  mark'd  you  with  a  curse — 

Did  one  wry  nail,  or  one  black  tooth, 
But  make  you  worse — 

I  'd  trust  you ;  but,  when  plighted  lies 
Have  pledged  you  deepest,  lovelier  far 

t93] 


Iboratf  Carmlnum  %ib»  ii 

pulchrior  multo  iuvenumque  prodis 

publica  cura. 
expedit  matris  cineres  opertos 
fallere  et  toto  taciturna  noctis 
signa  cum  caelo  gelidaque  divos 

morte  carentis. 
ridet  hoc,  inquam,  Venus  ipsa,  rident 
simplices  Nymphae,  ferus  et  Cupido 
semper  ardentis  acuens  sagittas 

cote  cruenta. 
adde  quod  pubes  tibi  crescit  omnis, 
servitus  crescit  nova,  nee  priores 
impiae  tectum  dominae  relinquunt 

saepe  minati. 
te  suis  matres  metuunt  iuvencis, 
te  senes  parci  miseraeque  nuper 
virgines  nuptae,  tua  ne  retardet 

aura   maritos. 

IX 

NoN  semper  imbres  nubibus  hispidos 
manant  in  agros  aut  mare  Caspium 
vexant  inaequales  procellae 
usque,  nee  Armeniis  in  oris, 
amice  Valgi,  stat  glacies  iners 
menses  per  omnis  aut  Aquilonibus 
querqueta  Gargani  laborant 
et  foliis  viduantur  orni: 

[94] 


®De0  of  Iborace,  :ffiook  ii 

You  sparkle  forth,  of  all  young  eyes 

The  ruling  star. 
'T  is  gain  to  mock  your  mother's  bones, 

And  night's  still  signs,  and  all  the  sky, 
And  gods,  that  on  their  glorious  thrones 

Chill  Death  defy. 
Ay,  Venus  smiles:  the  pure  nymphs  smile, 

And  Cupid,  tyrant-lord  of  hearts. 
Sharpening  on  bloody  stone  the  while 

His  fiery  darts. 
New  captives  fill  the  nets  you  weave; 

New  slaves  are  bred;  and  those  before, 
Though  oft  they  threaten,  never  leave 

Your  godless  door. 
The  mother  dreads  you  for  her  son. 

The  thrifty  sire,  the  new-wed  bride, 
Lest,  lured  by  you,  her  precious  one 
Should  leave  her  side. 

IX 

The  rain,  it  rains  not  every  day 

On  the  soak'd  meads;  the  Caspian  main 
Not  always  feels  the  unequal  sway 

Of  storms,  nor  on   Armenia's  plain. 
Dear  Valgius,  lies  the  cold  dull  snow 

Through  all  the  year;  nor  north  winds  keen 
Upon  Garganian  oakwoods  blow. 

And  strip  the  ashes  of  their  green. 

[95] 


Iborati  Garminum  %ib,  ii 

tu  semper  urges  flebilibus  modis 
Mysten  ademptum,  nee  tibi  Vespero 
surgente  decedunt  amores 
nee  rapidum  fugiente  solem. 
at  non  ter  aevo  functus  amabilem 
ploravit   omnis   Antilochum   senex 
annos,  nee  inpubem  parentes 
Troilon  aut  Phrygiae  sorores 
flevere  semper,     desine  mollium 
tandem  querellarum,  et  potius  nova 
cantemus  August!  tropaea 

Caesaris  et  rigidum  Niphaten 
Medumque   flumen   gentibus   additum 
victis  minores  volvere  vertices, 
intraque  praescriptum   Gelonos 
exiguis  equitare  campis. 


Rectius   vives,   Licini,   neque   altum 
semper  urgendo  neque,  dum  procellas 
cautus  horrescis,  nimium  premendo 

litus  iniquom: 
auream  quisquis  mediocritatem 
diligit,  tutus  caret  opsoleti 
sordibus  tecti,  caret  invidenda 

sobrius  aula, 
saepius  ventis  agitatur  ingens 
pinus  et  celsae  graviore  casu 
[96] 


©Des  ot  Iborace,  JBooft  ii 

You  still  with  tearful  tones  pursue 

Your  lost,  lost  Mystes;  Hesper  sees 
Your  passion  when  he  brings  the  dew, 

And  when  before  the  sun  he  flees. 
Yet  not  for  loved  Antilochus 

Grey  Nestor  wasted  all  his  years 
In   grief;   nor  o'er  young   Troilus 

His  parents'  and  his  sisters'  tears 
For  ever  flow'd.     At  length  have  done 

With   these  soft  sorrows;   rather  tell 
Of  Caesar's  trophies  newly  won, 

And  hoar   Niphates'   icy  fell, 
And  Medus'  flood,  'mid  conquer'd  tribes 

Rolling  a  less  presumptuous  tide, 
And  Scythians  taught,  as  Rome  prescribes, 

Henceforth  o'er  narrower  steppes  to  ride. 

X 

LiciNius,  trust  a  seaman's  lore: 
Steer  not  too  boldly  to  the  deep. 

Nor,  fearing  storms,  by  treacherous  shore 
Too  closely  creep. 

Who  makes  the  golden  mean  his  guide. 
Shuns  miser's  cabin,  foul  and  dark, 

Shuns  gilded  roofs,  where  pomp  and  pride 
Are  envy's  mark. 

With  fiercer  blasts  the  pine's  dim  height 
Is  rock'd;  proud  towers  with  heavier  fall 

Vol.  1—7  1.97] 


Iboratl  Carminum  %i\),  ii 

decidunt  turres  feriuntque  summos 

fulgura  mentis, 
sperat  infestis,  metuit  secundis 
alteram   sortem  bene   praeparatum 
pectus,     informis  hiemes  reducit 

luppiter,   idem 
summovet.    non,  si  male  nunc,  et  olim 
sic   erit:    quondam   cithara  tacentem 
suscitat  musam  neque  semper  arcum 

tendit  Apollo, 
rebus  angustis  animosus  atque 
fortis  appare;   sapienter  idem 
contrahes  vento  nimium  secundo 

turgida  vela. 

XI 

Quid  bellicosus  Cantaber  et  Scythes, 
Hirpine  Quincti,  cogitet  Hadria 
divisus  obiecto,  remittas 

quaerere,  nee  trepides  in  usum 
poscentis  aevi  pauca:  fugit  retro 
levis  iuventas  et  decor,  arida 
pellente  lascivos  amores 

canitie    facilemque    somnum. 
non  semper  idem  floribus  est  honor 
vernis  neque  uno  luna  rubens  nitet 
voltu:  quid  aeternis  minorem 
consiliis  animum  fatigas? 
198] 


©Dee  of  Iborace,  :fiSooft  ii 

Crash  to  the  ground;  and  thunders  smite 

The    mountains    tall. 
In  sadness  hope,  in  gladness  fear 

'Gainst    coming    change    will    fortify 
Your  breast.     The  storms  that  Jupiter 

Sweeps  o'er  the  sky 
He  chases.     Why  should  rain  to-day 

Bring  rain  to-morrow?     Python's  foe 
Is  pleased  sometimes  his  lyre  to  play, 

Nor  bends  his  bow. 
Be  brave  in  trouble;  meet  distress 

With  dauntless  front;  but  when  the  gale 
Too   prosperous   blows,   be   wise   no   less, 
And  shorten  sail. 

XI 

0  ASK  not  what  those  sons  of  war, 

Cantabrian,    Scythian,   each   intend, 
Disjoin'd  from  us  by  Hadria's  bar. 

Nor  puzzle,  Quintius,  how  to  spend 
A   life   so   simple.     Youth   removes, 

And  Beauty  too;  and  hoar  Decay 
Drives  out  the  wanton  tribe  of  Loves 

And  Sleep,  that  came  or  night  or  day. 
The   sweet   spring-flowers  not   always  keep 

Their  bloom,  nor  moonlight  shines  the  same 
Each  evening.     Why  with  thoughts  too  deep 

O'ertask  a  mind  of  mortal  frame? 

1991 


Iborati  Carminum  %ib,  ii 

cur  non  sub  alta  vel  platano  vel  hac 
pinu  iacentes  sic  temere  et  rosa 
canos  odorati  capillos, 

dum  licet,  Assyriaque  nardo 
potamus   uncti?   dissipat   Euhius 
curas   edacis.     quis   puer   ocius 
restinguet  ardentis   Falerni 
pocula  praetereunte  lympha? 
quis  devium  scortum  eliciet  domo 
Lyden?   eburna,   die   age,  cum  lyra 
maturet,  incomptum  Lacaenae 
more  comae  religata  nodum. 


XII 

NoLis  longa  ferea  bella  Numantiae, 

nee  durum  Hannibalem  nee   Siculum  mare 

Poeno    purpureum    sanguine    mollibus 

aptari  citharae  modis, 
nee  saevos  Lapithas  et  nimium  mero 
Hylaeum  domitosque  Herculea  manu 
telluris    iuvenes,   unde    periculum  • 

fulgens  contremuit  domus 
Saturni  veteris:  tuque  pedestribus 
dices  historiis  proelia  Caesaris, 
Maecenas,  melius  ductaque  per  vias 

regum  colla  minacium. 

[100] 


©Oc0  ot  Iborace,  :©ooft  ii 

Why  rot,  just  thrown  at  careless  ease 

'Neath  plane  or  pine,  our  locks  of  grey 
Perfumed  with   Syrian  essences 

And  wreathed  with  roses,  while  we  may. 
Lie  drinking?     Bacchus  puts  to  sham.e 

The  cares  that  waste  us.     Where  's  the  slave 
To  quench  the  fierce  Falernian's  flame 

With  water  from  the  passing  wave? 
Who  '11  coax  coy  Lyde  from  her  home? 

Go,  bid  her  take  her  ivory  lyre, 
The  runaway,  and  haste  to  come. 

Her  wild  hair  bound  with  Spartan  tire. 


XII 

The  weary  war  where  fierce  Numantia  bled, 

Fell  Hannibal,  the  swoln   Sicilian  main 
Purpled  with  Punic  blood — not  mine  to  wed 

These  to  the   lyre's   soft   strain, 
Nor  cruel  Lapithae,  nor,  mad  with  wine. 

Centaurs,  nor,  by  Herculean  arm  o'ercome, 
The    earth-born    youth,    whose    terrors    dimm'd    the 
shine, 
Of  the  resplendent  dome 
Of  ancient   Saturn.     You,  Maecenas,  best 

In  pictured  prose  of  Caesar's  warrior  feats 

Will  tell,  and  captive  kings  with  haughty  crest 

Led   through   the   Roman   streets. 

[101] 


Iborati  Carminum  Xib.  ii 

me  dulcis  dominae  Musa  Licymniae 
cantus,  me  voluit  dicere  lucidum 
fulgentis  oculos  et  bene  mutuis 

fidum  pectus  amoribus, 
quam  nee  ferre  pedem  dedecuit  choris 
nee  certare  ioco  nee  dare  bracchia 
ludentem  nitidis  virginibus  sacro 

Dianae  Celebris  die. 
num  tu  quae  tenuit  dives  Achaemenes 
aut  pinguis  Phrygiae  Mygdonias  opes 
permutare  velis  crine  Licymniae, 

plenas  aut  Arabum  domos, 
cum  flagrantia  detorquet  ad  oscula 
cervicem  aut  facili  saevitia  negat, 
quae  poscente  magis  gaudeat  eripi, 

interdum  rapere  occupet? 


XIII 

Ille  et  nefasto  te  posuit  die, 
quicumque  primum,  et  sacrilega  manu 
produxit,  arbos,  in  nepotum 

perniciem  obprobriumque  pagi; 
ilium  et  parentis  crediderim  sui 
fregisse  cervicem  et  penetralia 
sparsisse    nocturno    cruore 
hospitis;  ille  venena  Colcha 

[102] 


Q^cs  ot  Iborace,  :Booft,  ii 

On  me  the  Muse  has  laid  her  charge  to  tell 

Of  your  Licymnia's  voice,  the  lustrous  hue 
Of  her  bright  eye,  her  heart  that  beats  so  well 

To  mutual  passion  true: 
How  nought  she  does  but  lends  her  added  grace, 
Whether  she  dance,  or  join  in  bantering  play, 
Or  with  soft  arms  the  maiden  choir  embrace 

On  great  Diana's  day. 
Say,  would  you  change  for  all  the  wealth  possest 

By  rich  Achaemenes  or  Phrygia's  heir, 
Or  the  full  stores  of  Araby  the  blest. 

One  lock  of  her  dear  hair. 
While  to  your  burning  lips  she  bends  her  neck, 

Or  with  kind  cruelty  denies  the  due 
She  means  you  not  to  beg  for,  but  to  take, 
Or  snatches  it  from  you? 


XIII 

Black  day  he  chose  for  planting  thee. 

Accurst  he  rear'd  thee  from  the  ground, 
The  bane  of  children  yet  to  be. 

The  scandal  of  the  village  round. 
His   father's   throat   the   monster   press'd 

Beside,  and  on  his  hearthstone  spilt, 
I   ween,  the  blood  of  midnight   guest; 

Black  Colchian  drugs,  whate'er  of  guilt 

[103] 


Iboratf  Carmfnum  Xib.  ii 

et  quicquid  usquam  concipitur  nefas 
tractavit,  agro  qui  statuit  meo 
te,  triste  lignum,  te  caducum 
in    domini    caput    inmerentis. 
quid  quisque  vitet,  numquam  homini  satis 
cautum  est  in  horas.     navita  Bosphorum 
Poenus  perhorrescit  neque  ultra 
caeca  timet  aliunde  fata, 
miles  sagittas  et  celerem  fugam 
Parthi,  catenas  Parthus  et  Italum 
robur;   sed  inprovisa  leti 
vis  rapuit  rapietque  gentis. 
quam  paene  furvae  regna  Proserpinae 
et    iudicantem   vidimus    Aeacum 
sedesque  discriptas  piorum  et 
Aeoliis   fidibus   querentem 
Sappho   puellis   de   popularibus 
et  te  sonantem  plenius  aureo 
Alcaee,  plectro  dura  navis, 
dura  fugae  mala,  dura  belli, 
utrumque  sacro  digna  silentio 
mirantur  umbrae  dicere;  sed  magis 
pugnas  et  exactos  tyrannos 

densum  umeris  bibit  aure  volgus. 
quid  mirum,  ubi  illis  carminibus  stupens 
demittit  atras  belua  centiceps 
auris  et  intorti  capillis 

Eumenidum  recreantur  angues? 

[104] 


©Des  ot  iborace,  :©ooft  ii 

Is  hatch'd  on  earth,  he  dealt  in  all — 

Who  planted  in  my  rural  stead 
Thee,  fatal  wood,  thee,  sure  to  fall 

Upon  thy  blameless  master's  head. 
The  dangers  of  the  hour!  no  thought 

We  give  them;  Punic  seaman's  fear 
Is  all  of  Bosporus,  nor  aught 

Recks  he  of  pitfalls  otherwhere; 
The  soldier  fears  the  mask'd  retreat 

Of  Parthia;  Parthia  dreads  the  thrall 
Of  Rome;  but  Death  with  noiseless  feet 

Has   stolen   and  will   steal   on   all. 
How  near  dark  Pluto's  court  I  stood, 

And  Aeacus'  judicial  throne. 
The  blest  seclusion  of  the  good, 

And  Sappho,  with  sweet  lyric  moan 
Bewailing  her  ungentle  sex, 

And  thee,  Alcaeus,  louder  far 
Chanting  thy  tale  of  woful  wrecks. 

Of  woful  exile,  woful  war! 
In  sacred  awe  the  silent  dead 

Attend  on  each:  but  when  the  song 
Of  combat  tells  and  tyrants  fled. 

Keen  ears,  press'd  shoulders,  closer  throng. 
What  marvel,  when  at  those  sweet  airs 

The   hundred-headed   beast   spell-bound 
Each  black  ear  droops,  and  Furies'  hairs 

Uncoil  their  serpents  at  the  sound? 

[105] 


Iboratl  Carmfnum  Xlb.  ii 

quin  et  Prometheus  et  Pelopis  parens 
dulci  laborem  decipitur  sono, 

nee  curat  Orion  leones 

aut  timidos  agitare  lyncas. 

XIV 

Eheu,  fugaces,  Postume,  Postume, 
labuntur  anni,  nee  pietas  moram 
rugis  et  instanti  senectae 
afferet  indomitaeque  morti; 
non,  si  trecenis  quotquot  eunt  dies, 
amice,  places  inlacrimabilem 
Plutona  tauris,  qui  ter  amplum 
Geryonen  Tityonque  tristi 
compescit  unda,  scilicet  omnibus, 
quicumque  terrae  munere  vescimur, 
enaviganda,  sive  reges 
sive  inopes  erimus  coloni. 
frustra  cruento  Marte  carebimus 
fractisque  rauci  fluctibus  Hadriae, 
frustra  per  autumnos  nocentem 
corporibus  metuemus  Austrum. 
visendus  ater  flumine  languido 
Cocytos  errans  et  Danai  genus 
infame  damnatusque  longi 
Sisyphus  Aeolides  laboris. 
linquenda  tellus  et  domus  et  placens 
uxor,  neque  harum,  quas  colis,  arborum 

[106] 


©DCS  of  iborace,  :ffiooft  ii 

Prometheus  too  and  Pelops'  sire 
In  listening  lose  the  sense  of  woe; 

Orion  hearkens  to  the  lyre, 
And  lets  the  lynx  and  lion  go. 

XIV 

Ah,   Postujnus!   they  fleet  away, 

Our  years,  nor  piety  one  hour 
Can  win  from  wrinkles  and  decay. 

And   Death's   indomitable   power; 
Not  though  three  hundred  bullocks  flame 

Each  year,  to  soothe  the  tearless,  king 
Who  holds  huge  Geryon's  triple  frame 

And  Tityos  in  his  watery  ring, 
That  circling  flood  which  all  must  stem 

Who  eat  the  fruits  that  Nature  yields, 
Wearers  of  haughtiest  diadem. 

Or  humblest  tillers  of  the  fields. 
In  vain  we  shun  war's  contact  red 

Or  storm- tost  spray  of  Hadrian  main: 
In  vain,  the  season  through,  we  dread 

For  our  frail  lives  Scirocco's  bane. 
Cocytus'  black  and  stagnant  ooze 

Must  welcome  you,  and  Danaus'  seed 
Ill-famed,  and  ancient  Sisyphus 

To  never-ending  toil  decreed. 
Your  land,  your  house,  your  lovely  bride 

Must  lose  you;  of  your  cherish'd  trees 
[107] 


Iborati  Garminum  %i\),  ii 

te  praeter  invisas  cupressos 
ulla  brevem  dominum  sequetur. 
absumet  heres  Caecuba  dignior 
servata  centum  clavibus  et  mero 
tinguet    pavimentum    superbo,' 
pontificum  potiore  cenis. 

XV 

Iam  pauca-  aratro  iugera  regiae 
moles  relinquent,  undique  latius 
extenta  visentur  Lucrino 

stagna  lacu,  platanusque  caelebs 
evincet  ulmos;   turn  violaria  et 
myrtus  et  omnis  copia  narium 
spargent   olivetis   odorem 
fertilibus  domino  priori; 
tum  spissa  ramis  laurea  fervidos 
excludet  ictus,     non  ita  Romuli 
praescriptum  et  intonsi  Catonis 
auspiciis    veterumque   norma, 
privatus   illis   census    erat   brevis, 
commune  magnum:  nulla  decempedis 
metata  privatis  opacam 

porticus  excipiebat  Arcton, 
nee  fortuitum  spernere  caespitem 
leges  sinebant,  oppida  publico 
sumptu  iubentes  et  deorum 
templa  novo   decorare  saxo. 

[108] 


QtfCB  Of  Iboracc,  JBooft  ii 

None  to  its  fleeting  master's  side 

Will  cleave,  but  those  sad  cypresses. 

Your  heir,  a  larger  soul,  will  drain 
The  hundred-padlock'd  Caecuban, 

And  richer  spilth  the  pavement  stain 
Than  e'er  at  pontiff's  supper  ran. 

XV 

Few  roods  of  ground  the  piles  we  raise 

Will  leave  to  plough;  ponds  wider  spread 
Than  Lucrine  lake  will  meet  the  gaze 

On  every  side;  the  plane  unwed 
Will  top  the  elm;  the  violet-bed, 

The  myrtle,  each  delicious  sweet. 
On  olive-grounds  their  scent  will  shed. 

Where  once  were  fruit-trees  yielding  meat; 
Thick  bays  will  screen  the  midday  range 

Of  fiercest  suns.     Not  such  the  rule 
Of  Romulus,  and  Cato  sage, 

And  all  the  bearded,  good  old  school. 
Each  Roman's  wealth  was  little  worth, 

His  country's  much;  no  colonnade 
For  private  pleasance  wooed  the  North 

With  cool  "  prolixity  of  shade." 
None  might  the  casual  sod  disdain 

To  roof  his  home;  a  town  alone. 
At  public  charge,  a  sacred  fane 

Were  honour'd  with  the  pomp  of  stone. 

[109] 


Iborati  Carmfnum  Xib.  ii 


XVI 


Otium  divos  rogat  in  patent! 
prensus  Aegaeo,  simul  atra  nubes 
condidit  lunam  neque  certa  fulgent 

sidera  nautis; 
otium  bello  furiosa  Thrace, 
otium  Medi  pharetra  decori, 
Grosphe,    non    gemmis    neque    purpura    ve- 

nale  neque  auro. 
non  enim  gazae  neque  consularis 
summovet  lictor  miseros  tumultus 
mentis  et  curas  laqueata  circum 

tecta  volantis. 
vivitur  parvo  bene,  cui  paternum 
splendet  in  mensa  tenui  salinum, 
nee  levis  somnos  timor  aut  cupido 

sordidus  aufert. 
quid  brevi  fortes  iaculamur  aevo 
multa?  quid  terras  alio  calentis 
sole  mutamus?  patriae  quis  exul 

se  quoque  fugit? 
scandit    aeratas   vitiosa   navis 
cura  nee  turmas  equitum  relinquit, 
ocior  cervis  et  agente  nimbos 

ocior  Euro, 
laetus  in  praesens  animus  quod  ultrast 
oderit  curare  et  amara  lento 

[110] 


©De6  of  tborace,  JSooft  ii 


XVI 


For  ease,  in  wide  Aegean  caught, 

The  sailor  prays,  when  clouds  are  hiding 
The  moon,  nor  shines  of  starlight  aught 

For  seaman's  guiding: 
For  ease  the  Mede,  with  quiver  gay: 

For  ease  rude  Thrace,  in  battle  cruel: 
Can  purple  buy  it,  Grosphus?     Nay, 

Nor  gold,  nor  jewel. 
No  pomp,  no  lictor  clears  the  way 

'Mid  rabble-routs  of  troublous  feelings, 
Nor  quells  the  cares  that  sport  and  play 

Round  gilded   ceilings. 
More  happy  he  whose  modest  board 

His   father's   well-worn    silver  brightens; 
No  fear,  nor  lust  for  sordid  hoard. 
His  light  sleep  frightens. 
Why  bend  our  bows  of  little  span? 

Why  change  our  homes  for  regions  under 
Another  sun?     What  exiled  man 

From  self  can  sunder? 
Care  climbs  the  bark,  and  trims  the  sail. 

Curst  fiend !  nor  troops  of  horse  can  'scape  her. 
More  swift  than  stag,  more  swift  than  gale 

That  drives  the  vapour. 
Blest  in  the  present,  look  not  forth 
On  ills  beyond,  but  soothe  each  bitter 

[111] 


Iboratf  Carmlnum  Xfb.  ii 

temperet  risu:  nihil  est  ab  omni 

parte  beatum. 
abstulit  clarum  cita  mors  Achillem, 
longa  Tithonum  minuit  senectus, 
et  mihi  forsan  tibi  quod  negarit, 

porriget  hora. 
te  greges  centum  Siculaeque  circum 
mugiunt  vaccae,  tibi   tollit  hinnitum 
apta  quadrigis  equa,  te  bis  Afro 

murice  tinctae 
vestiunt  lanae:  mihi  parva  rura  et 
spiritum   Graiae  tenuem   Camenae 
Parca  non  mendax  dedit  et  malignum 

spernere  volgus. 

XVII 

Cur  me  querellis  exanimas  tuis? 
nee  dis  amicum  est  nee  mihi  te  prius 
obire,  Maecenas,  mearum 

grande  decus  columenque  rerum 
a,  te  meae  si  partem  animae  rapit 
maturior  vis,  quid  moror  altera, 
nee  carus  aeque  nee  superstes 
integer?  ille  dies  utramque 
ducet  ruinam.     non  ego  perfidum 
dixi  sacramentum:  ibimus,  ibimus, 
utcumque  precedes,  supremum 
carpere  iter  comites  parati. 

[1121 


Qt>c0  Of  Iborace,  :©ooft  ii 

With  slow,  calm  smile.     No  suns  on  earth 

Unclouded  glitter. 
Achilles'  light  was  quench'd  at  noon; 

A  long  deciay  Tithonus  minish'd; 
My  hours,  it  may  be,  yet  will  run 

When  yours  are  finish'd. 
For  you  Sicilian  heifers  low. 

Bleat  countless  flocks;  for  you  are  neighing 
Proud  coursers;  Afric  purples  glow 

For  your  arraying 
With  double  dyes;  a  small  domain. 

The  soul  that  breathed  in  Grecian  harping. 
My  portion  these;  and  high  disdain 
Of  ribald  carping. 

XVII 

Why  rend  my  heart  with  that  sad  sigh? 

It  cannot  please  the  gods  or  me 
That   you,   Maecenas,   first   should   die, 

My  pillar  of  prosperity. 
Ah!  should  I  lose  one  half  my  soul 

Untimely,  can  the  other  stay 
Behind  it?    Life  that  is  not  whole. 

Is  that  as  sweet?     The  self -same  day 
Shall  crush  us  twain;  no  idle  oath 

Has   Horace   sworn;   whene'er  you   go, 
We  both  will  travel,  travel  both 

The  last  dark  journey  down  below. 

VOL.  I.— 8  [113] 


Iborati  Carmlnum  %i\)»  ii 

me  nee  Chimaerae  spiritus  igneae 
nee  si  resurgat  centimanus  Gyas 
divellet  umquam:  sic  potenti 
lustitiae  placitumque  Parcis. 
seu  Libra  seu  me  Scorpios  aspicit 
formidulosus,  pars  violentior 
natalis  horae,  seu  tyrannus 
Hesperiae  Capricornus  undae, 
utrumque  nostrum  incredibili  modo 
consentit  astrum.    te  lovis  impio 
tutela  Saturno  refulgens 
eripuit  voluerisque  fati 
tardavit  alas,  cum  populus  frequens 
laetum  theatris  ter  crepuit  sonum: 
me  truncus  inlapsus  cerebro 
sustulerat,  nisi   Faunus  ictum 
dextra  levasset,  Mercurialium 
custos  virorum.     reddere  victimas 
aedemque  votivam  memento: 
nos  humilem  feriemus  agnam. 

XVIII 

NON  ebur  neque  aureum 

mea  renidet  in  domo  lacunar; 

non  trabes  Hymettiae 

premunt  columnas  ultima  recisas 

Africa,  neque  Attali 

ignotus  heres  regiam  occupavi, 

[114] 


©Des  of  Iborace,  JBooFi  ii 

No,  not  Chimaera's  fiery  breath, 

Nor   Gyas,  could  he  rise  again, 
Shall  part  us;  Justice,  strong  as  death, 

So  wills  it;  so  the  Fates  ordain. 
Whether  'twas  Libra  saw  me  born 

Or  angry  Scorpio,  lord  malign 
Of  natal  hour,  or  Capricorn, 

The  tyrant  of  the  western  brine, 
Our  planets  sure  with  concord  strange 

Are  blended.     You  by  Jove's  blest  power 
Were  snatch'd  from  out  the  baleful  range 

Of  Saturn,  and  the  evil  hour 
Was  stay'd,  when  rapturous  benches  full 

Three  times  the  auspicious  thunder  peal'd; 
Me  the  curst  trunk,  that  smote  my  skull. 

Had  slain;  but  Faunus,  strong  to  shield 
The  friends  of  Mercury,  check'd  the  blow 

In  mid  descent.     Be  sure  to  pay 
The  victims  and  the  fane  you  owe; 

Your  bard  a  humbler  lamb  will  slay. 

XVIII 

Carven  ivory  have  I  none; 
No  golden  cornice  in  my  dwelling  shines; 

Pillars  choice  of  Libyan  stone 
Upbear  no  architrave  from  Attic  mines; 

'T  was  not  mine  to  enter  in 
To  Attains'  broad  realms,  an  unknown  heir, 

[115] 


Iborati  Cacmlnum  X(b.  ii 

nee  Laconicas  mihi 

trahunt   honestae   purpuras   clientae. 
at  fides  et  ingeni 

benigna  venast,  pauperemque  dives 
me  petit;  nihil  supra 

deos  lacesso  nee  potentem  amicum 
largiora  flagito, 

satis  beatus  unieis  Sabinis. 
truditur  dies  die 

novaeque  pergunt  interire  lunae: 
tu  seeanda  marmora 

locas  sub  ipsum  funus  et  sepulehri 
immemor  struis  domos, 

marisque  Bais  obstrepentis  urges 
summovere  litora, 

parum  loeuples  eontinente  ripa. 
quid  quod  usque  proximos 

revellis  agri  terminos  et  ultra 
limites  clientium 

salis  avarus?  pellitur  paternos 
in  sinu  ferens  deos 

et  uxor  et  vir  sordidosque  natos. 
nulla  eertior  tamen 

rapacis  Orei  fine  destinata 
aula   divitem  manet 

erum.    quid  ultra  tendis?  aequa  tellus 
pauperi  reeluditur 

regumque  pueris,  nee  satelles  Orei 

[1161 


©Oes  ot  Iborace,  JSooft  ii 

Nor  for  me  fair  clients  spin 
Laconian  purples  for  their   patron's  wear. 

Truth  is  mine,  and   Genius  mine; 
The  rich  man  comes,  and  knocks  at  my  low  door: 

Favour'd  thus,  I  ne'er  repine, 
Nor  weary  out  indulgent  Heaven  for  more : 

In  my  Sabine  homestead  blest. 
Why  should  I  further  tax  a  generous  friend? 

Suns   are   hurrying   suns   a-west. 
And  newborn  moons  make  speed  to  meet  their  end. 

You  have  hands  to  square  and  hew 
Vast  marble-blocks,  hard  on  your  day  of  doom, 

Ever  building  mansions  new. 
Nor  thinking  of  the  mansion  of  the  tomb. 

Now  you  press  on  ocean's  bound, 
Where  waves  on  Baiae  beat,  as  earth  were  scant; 

Now  absorb  your  neighbour's  ground, 
And  tear  his  landmarks  up,  your  own  to  plant. 

,   Hedges    set   round    clients'    farms 
Your  avarice  tramples;  see,  the  outcasts  fly, 

Wife  and  husband,  in  their  arms 
Their   fathers'    gods,   their    squalid   family. 

Yet  no  hall  that  wealth  e'er  plann'd 
Waits  you  more  surely  than  the  wider  room 

Traced  by  Death's  yet  greedier  hand. 
Why  strain  so  far?  you  cannot  leap  the  tomb. 

Earth  removes  the  impartial  sod 
Alike  for  beggar  and  for  monarch's  child: 

[117J 


•fcoratl  Carmfnum  Xib.  ii 

callidum  Promethea 

revexit  auro  captus:  hie  superbum 
Tantalum  atque  Tantali 

genus  coercet,  hie  levare  funetum 
pauperem  laboribus 

voeatus  atque  non  vocatus  audit. 

XIX 

Bacchum  in  remotis  carmina  rupibus 
vide  doeentem,  eredite  posteri, 
nymphasque  discentis  et  auris 
capripedum  Satyrorum  aeutas. 
euhoe!  reeenti  mens  trepidat  metu, 
plenoque  Baeehi  peetore  turbidum 
laetatur:   euhoe!   paree  Liber, 
parce,  gravi  metuende  thyrso! 
fas  pervicacis  est  mihi  Thyiadas 
vinique  fontem  lactis  et  uberes 
cantare  rivos  atque  truncis 
lapsa  eavis  iterare  mella; 
fas  et  beatae  coniugis  additum 
stellis  honorem  tectaque  Penthei 
disiecta  non  leni  ruina 

Thraeis  et  exitium  Lyeurgi. 
tu  fleetis  amnes,  tu  mare  barbarum, 
tu  separatis  uvidus  in  iugis 
nodo  eoerces  viperino 

Bistonidum  sine  fraude  erinis, 

[118] 


©Des  ot  Iborace,  :ffiooft  ii 

Nor  the  slave  of  Hell's  dark  god 
Convey'd  Prometheus  back,  with  bribe  beguiled. 

Pelops  he  and  Pelops'  sire 
Holds,  spite  of  pride,  in  close  captivity; 

Beggars,  who  of  labour  tire, 
Caird  or  uncalFd,  he  hears  and  sets  them  free. 

XIX 

Bacchus  I  saw  in  mountain  glades 

Retired    (believe   it,   after  years!) 
Teaching  his  strains  to  Dryad  maids. 

While  goat-hoof'd  satyrs  prick'd  their  ears. 
Evoe!  my  eyes  with  terror  glare; 

My  heart  is  revelling  with  the  god; 
'T  is  madness!     Evoe!  spare,  O  spare, 

Dread  wielder  of  the  ivied  rod! 
Yes,  I  may  sing  the  Thyiad  crew, 

The  stream  of  wine,  the  sparkling  rills 
That  run  with  milk,  and  honey-dew 

That  from  the  hollow  trunk  distils; 
And  I  may  sing  thy  consort's  crown, 

New  set  in  heaven,  and  Pentheus'  hall 
With  ruthless  ruin  thundering  down. 

And  proud  Lycurgus'  funeral. 
Thou  turn'st  the  rivers,  thou  the  sea; 

Thou,  on  far  summits,  moist  with  wine, 
Thy  Bacchants'  tresses  harmlessly 

Dost  knot  with  living  serpent-twine, 
U191 


IboratI  Carminum  Xlb.  ii 

tu,  cum  parentis  regna  per  arduum 
cohors   Gigantum   scanderet  impia, 
Rhoetum  retorsisti  leonis 
unguibus  horribilique  mala; 
quamquam  choreis  aptior  et  iocis 
ludoque  dictus,  non  sat  idoneus 
pugnae   ferebaris,    sed   idem 
pacis   eras   mediusque  belli, 
te  vidit  insons  Cerberus  aureo 
cornu  decorum  leniter  atterens 
caudam  et  recedentis  trilingui 
ore  pedes  tetigitque  crura. 

XX 

Non  usitata  nee  tenui  ferar 
pinna  biformis  per  liquidum  aethera 
vates  neque  in  terris  morabor 
longius  invidiaque  maior 
urbes  relinquam.   non  ego  pauperum 
sanguis  parentum,  non  ego  quem  vocas 
"  dilecte,"  Maecenas,  obibo 
nee  Stygia  cohibebor  unda. 
iam  iam  residunt  cruribus  asperae 
pelles,  et  album  mutor  in  alitem 
superne,  nascunturque  leves 
per  digitos  umerosque  plumae. 
iam  Daedaleo  ocior  Icaro 
visam  gementis  litora  Bosphori 

[120] 


Qtfcs  Of  iboracc,  3iSooft  ii 

Thou,  when  the  giants,  threatening  wrack, 

Were  clambering  up  Jove's  citadel, 
Didst  hurl  o'erweening  Rhoetus  back, 

In  tooth  and  claw  a  lion  fell. 
Who  knew  thy  feats  in  dance  and  play 

Deem'd  thee  belike  for  war's  rough  game 
Unmeet:   but  peace  and  battle-fray 

Found  thee,  their  centre,  still  the  same. 
Grim  Cerberus  wagg'd  his  tail  to  see 

Thy  golden  horn,  nor  dream'd  of  wrong, 
But  gently  fawning,  follow'd  thee, 

And  lick'd  thy  feet  with  triple  tongue. 

XX 

No  vulgar  wing,  nor  weakly  plied. 

Shall  bear  me  through  the  liquid  sky; 
A  two-form'd  bard,  no  more  to  bide 

Within  the  range  of  envy's  eye 
'Mid  haunts  of  men.     I,  all  ungraced 

By  gentle  blood,  I,  whom  you  call 
Your  friend,  Maecenas,  shall  not  taste 

Of  death,  nor  chafe  in  Lethe's  thrall. 
E'en  now  a  rougher  skin  expands 

Along  my  legs:   above  I  change 
To  a  white  bird;  and  o'er  my  hands 

And  shoulders  grows  a  plumage  strange: 
Fleeter  than  Icarus,  see  me  float 

O'er  Bosporus,  singing  as  I  go, 

[121] 


Iboratl  Carmlnum  Xib.  ii 

Syrtisque  Gaetulas  canorus 
ales  Hyperboreosque  campos. 
me  Colchus  et,  qui  dissimulat  metum 
Marsae  cohortis,  Dacur  et  ultimi 
noscent  Geloni,  me  peritus 

discet  Hiber  Rhodanique  potor. 
absint   inani   funere  neniae 
luctusque   turpes   et   querimoniae: 
compesce  clamorem  ac  sepulchri 
mitte   supervacuos   honores. 


[122] 


©des  of  Iborace,  JSoof;  ii 

And  o'er  Gaetulian  sands  remote, 

And  Hyperborean  fields  of  snow; 
By  Dacian  horde,  that  masks  its  fear 

Of  Marsic  steel,  shall  I  be  known, 
And  furthest  Scythian:   Spain  shall  hear 

My  warbling,  and  the  banks  of  Rhone. 
No  dirges  for  my  fancied  death; 

No  weak  lament,  no  mournful  stave; 
All  clamorous  grief  were  waste  of  breath. 

And  vain  the  tribute  of  a  grave. 


END    OP   VOLUME   I. 


11231 


Briel  Booltlets 


Ariel  BooKlets 

ORDER 

NUMBER 

Abelard  and  Heloise.     Letters 95 

About  Children:  What  Men  and  Women  Have 

Said 116 

About  Men:  What  Women  Have  Said  .  .  .  .114 
About  Women :  What  Men  Have  Said  .  .  .  .115 
Addison.     Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  Papers     ...     94 

^sop's  Fables 40 

Arabian  Nights.     6  vols 98-103 

Arnold.     Sweetness  and  Light 9 

Blake,  William.     Songs  of  Innocence  and  Songs 

of  Experience 150 

Bacon.     Some  of  the  Essays  of 58 

Bright,  John.     Speech  on  America 155 

Brown.     Rab   a.id   His    Friends,   and   Marjorie 

Fleming 2 

Browne.     Religio  Medici 90 

Browning,  E.  B.  Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese  .  5 
Browning,    R.  Chris>tmas  Eve,  and  Easter  Day     74 

Lyrics 10 

Pippa  Passes 128 

Bryant.     Thanatopsis,  Flood  of  Years,  etc.      .     .     12 

Butler.     Nothing  to  Wear iS 

Calverley.     Verses  and  Fly  Leaves 31 


ORDER 
NUMBER 

Carleton.     Wild  Goose  Lodge  and  Other  Irish 

Tales 77 

Carlyle.     Nibelungen  Lied 24 

Carove.     Story  without  an  End 46 

Carroll,  Lewis.     Alice  in  "Wonderland    ....  136 
Hunting  of  the  Snark  and  Other 

Poems 137 

Through  the  Looking  Glass  and  What 

Alice  Found  There    ....  158 

Chassimo.     Peter  Schlemihl     ...          ...  67 

Chesney.     Battle  of  Dorking 64 

Chesterfield.     Letters  and  Maxims 66 

Cicero  and  Emerson.     On  Friendship     ....  54 

Coleridge.     Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner  ...  16 

Concerning  Friendship 85 

Curtis.     Our  Best  Society 4 

De  Maistre,  X.     A  Journey  Round  My  Room  .  151 

De  Montaigne,  Michel.     Education  of  Children  .  152 

De  Quincey.     Conversation 154 

Three  Essays 63 

Dickens.     Christmas  Carol  ...«.*..  43 

Cricket  on  the  Hearth 44 

Drake.     Culprit  Fay 3 

Dnunmond,  Henry.     The  Greatest  Thing  in  the 

World 159 

Edgeworth.     Castle  Rackrent,  etc 78 

Emerson,  R.  W.     Essays  on  Character,  Heroism, 

and  Nature 140 

Epictetus 20 


ORDER 
NUMBER 

Ewing,  Julia  H.    A  Story  of  a  Short  Life    .     .     .  148 

Jackanapes 149 

Ferguson.     Father  Tom  and  the  Pope   ....    48 

Fouqu^.     Sintram 76 

Undine 84 

Franklin.    Autobiography 41 

Poor  Richard 42 

Froude,  James  Anthony.     The  Science  of  History  153 

Gaskell.     Cranford 33 

Gessa  Romanorum 65 

Gilbert.     Bab    Ballads.    2  vols 96-97 

Goldsmith.     Good  Natured  Man         8 

She  Stoops  to  Conquer 14 

Vicar  of  Wakefield 34 

Gray.     Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard .     ...     17 

GulUver's  Voyage  to  Lilliput 80 

Gulliver's  Voyage  to  Brobdingnag 81 

Gulliver's  Voyage  to  Laputa 82 

Gulliver's  Voyage  to  the  Houyhnhnms  ....  83 
Hale,  E.  E.  The  Man  without  a  Country  .  .  .142 
Horace.     Odes.    English  Translation  and  Latin 

Text.     2  vols 143-144 

Ideals  of  the  Republic 30 

Irving.   Bracebridge  Hall.     2  vols.    .    .    .     121-122 
Knickerbocker's  New  York.    3  vols.  123-124 

Legend  of  Sleepy  Hollow 28 

Old  Christmas 75 

Rip  Van  Winkle 29 

Sketch  Book.     2  vols 55-56 


ORDER 
NUMBER 

Irving.   Tales  of  a  Traveller.     2  vols.    .     .     125-126 

The  Alhambra.     2  vols 119-120 

James  I.  of  England.     Counterblaste  to  Tobacco     73 

Johnson.     Rasselas 36 

Keats.    Endymion 87 

Eve  of  St.  Agnes 26 

Kingsley,  Charles.     Greek  Heroes 131 

Lamb.    Essays  of  Elia.     2  vols 61-62 

Wit  and  Wisdom 38 

Lincoln,  A.     Stories  and  Sajrings.     Collected  and 

edited  by  Henry  Llewellyn  Williams     .     .145 

Longfellow,  H.  W.     Evangeline 138 

Lover.     Barney  O'Reirdon,  etc 79 

Lowell.     Fable  for  Critics 68 

Lytton,  E.  Bulwer.     Richelieu 134 

The  Lady  of  Lyons     .     .     .  135 

Macaulay.     Lays  of  Ancient  Rome 19 

Mahaffy,  John  P.     The  Art  of  Conversation    .     .141 

Marcus  Aurelius.     Thoughts 21 

Michael  Angelo.     Sonnets  of 53 

Milton.     Areopagitica 72 

L'Allegro  and  II  Penseroso 11 

Munchausen.     Travels 39 

Mulock.     The  Adventures  of  a  Brownie  ....  161 

The  Little  Lame  Prince 160 

Omar  Khayyam.     Rubaiyat 47 

Ouida.     Dog  of  Flanders 118 

The  Niirnberg  Stove 162 

Pascal.     Thoughts 89 


ORDER 
NUMBER 

Pater,  W.    Child  in  the  House 51 

Cupid  and  Psyche 130 

Penn.     Fruits  of  Solitude.   2  vols 91-92 

Plato.  Apology  of  Socrates 59 

The  Phaedo 60 

Plumtre,    George,    Translated    by.     Prometheus 

Bound  of  Aeschylos 156 

Antigone  of  Sophocles 157 

Poe.    Gold  Bug i 

Poems 52 

The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue    ...    146 
The  Purloined  Letter,  and  the  Pit  and  the 

Pendulum     ...  .  147 

Rochefoucauld.     Maxims 117 

Roosevelt.     True  Americanism 70 

Rossetti.     Blessed  Damozel 45 

House  of  Life 18 

Ruskin.     Crown  of  Wild  Olive 88 

Ideas  of  Truth 25 

King  of  the  Golden  River 27 

Sesame  and  Lilies 22 

Shakespeare.     As  You  Like  It 10 

Hamlet 113 

Julius  Csesar 11 1 

Macbeth 112 

Merchant  of  Venice 107 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream  .  .  106 
Much  Ado  About  Nothing  .  .  .  105 
Rom^o  and  Juliet      ,    ,    ,    ,    .  iiq 


ORDER 

NUMBER 

Shakespeare.    Sonnets 37 

Tempest 104 

Twelfth  Night 109 

Sheridan.     Rivals 7 

School  for  Scandal 6 

Stephen.     Robert  Louis  Stephenson 57 

Sterne,  Laurence.     A  Sentimental  Journey     .     .  129 

Stevenson,  R.  L.     A  Child's  Garden  of  Verses      .  139 

Virginibus  Puerisque     ...  69 

WiU  o'  the  MiU 86 

Swinburne,  A.  C.     Laus  Veneris  .    •    •    .    .    .127 

Tennyson.     In  Memoriam 93 

Princess 50 

Thackeray.     Charity  and  Humor 13 

Novels  by  Eminent  Hands      ...  32 

Rose  and  the  Ring 23 

Wilde,  Oscar.     Lady  Windermere's  Fan     .     .     .  132 
The  Ballad  of  Reading:  Gaol    .     .133 

Winthrop.    Love  and  Skates 49 

Word  for  the  Day 71 

Zschokke.     Tales 35 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

Ne-wr  YorK  and  London 


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